


Continuance

by Vocarin



Category: Persona 4
Genre: F/M, Love, Romance, Sex, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:06:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 337,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vocarin/pseuds/Vocarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that there are no endings, but only new beginnings. Something finishes, something else starts. Souji Seta is no stranger to new beginnings, but now it's time to make his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own neither Persona 4 nor any of the characters of said game, nor am I making any money from this work. I simply wish to explore the demented realms of my own mind with them.

This fic is also posted on FF.Net for anyone who wants to read it there. Someone told me that all the cool kids post their stuff on AO3, though so I thought I'd give it a try. Feel free to read and comment, but if you are going to download or distribute, please give me credit where it's due.

 

**Chapter One**

The _click_ ing and _clack_ ing of the train on its rails pulled at his awareness, trying with the steady rocking, back and forth, to lull him to sleep. Despite having not moved from his seat in more than an hour, nor even looked up from the photos in at least as long, sleep was a distant concern. Instead he was awake and aware, filled with the memories of the past year, going over them with his mind’s eye. Back and forth the memories went, speeding up and slowing down, some clear, some dim, like a movie theatre projector with a broken reel.

His cell phone chirped sharply, breaking his reverie for a moment. A text message. After a glance at the screen and a frown, he put it back in his pocket. _Enough time for that later._

 

He fell back into his memories, tying them and the emotions they evoked with the faces on the picture. Yosuke and his sharp wit and observations, one closed eye and knowing grin. Souji couldn’t help smiling in return, though the act made his head and jaw ache for a moment. Chie’s smile and grit, which had faced her deepest fears, faced herself, and come through the other side the stronger for it. Their training sessions, more than one of which ended with him bruised and getting reacquainted with his humility, reminded him of the conversation they’d had on the nature of strength, and how she was determined to use hers. Kanji, who towered over all of them both in body and in confidence now, radiated a self-assurance and pride that’d been missing when Souji first met him. He was the first person Souji’d ever seen chase cops off with the threat of mending their uniforms, and the impromptu, though beautifully crafted, puppet show that followed was hardly something Souji could forget. Ever.

 

Rise’s effervescent laugh rang in his ears from the picture, reminding him of the shopping trips and regular mobs of fans they’d encountered, some which included immediate autograph signings, others resulting in flight to the train. She’d made him promise to text her with his new address in Kofu, since she’d be near Tokyo and “couldn’t stand being separated from Sempai and the others for that long.” In a bid to keep the tears his departure had inspired to a minimum, he made the promise without a second thought. Not that she needed to twist his arm on the matter, of course, but he didn’t want the others thinking he was easy.

 

Teddie’s enthusiasm was something Souji hardly needed a photo to remember. Indeed, between the awful bear puns, the knee-jerk explanations of where the bear had come from on the field trip to Tatsumi Port Island, and the excursion to the bar that had left him blushing every time he saw Yukiko for weeks, the bear would be one of the harder ones to forget from Inaba, and that was if he never saw him again. Knowing Teddie, there was no worry of that. Naoto’s level stare made him chuckle, recalling how expressive the staid and calm detective became when the puzzles from her grandfather’s secretary had stumped her. For someone who never spoke until she was ready, Souji always felt like she was picking up more from him with a simple answer than if he’d let his guarded tongue loose. Though disconcerting, he found her ability to read him a strange comfort, all the more so when they became friends. Even when her eyes and quirky mouth told him he was full of shit, and she wasn’t buying it for a moment when he gave watered-down answers to her questions about his family life and past, words she never would have said, never _needed_ to say, there was an ease between them that told him she’d respect his reticence. That, she’d taught him, was the nature of being friends.

 

Finally Yukiko’s calm gaze and classical beauty made him close his eyes as the memories, already clear as life, burned even brighter. Their shared kiss during the festival at Tatsuhime Shrine, their stolen evening walks and talks in the months leading up to his departure, and the calm she brought to his mind, burdened with leadership and the questions of their investigation, all pulled at him, trying to remind him that he was now moving further and further away from her. He quashed the thoughts ruthlessly. Like the text message, they could wait.

 

The other photos spread out on his hands. Though not part of the group, and not forged of the same links that connected the investigation team, his other friends were no less important to him. Kou and Daisuke’s photo was next, taken by one of the basketball team members. The pair had shown Souji the marvel of the world, one of the six redeeming edifices of Inaba, known to everyone else as the Aiya! Restaurant. With how little fast food Souji ate before moving to Inaba, testing the limits of the menu had been an eye-opening experience, but the casual conversations the trio’d had over the various bounties of the kitchen staff, at tables, booths, or stools at the counter, fed a part of Souji that he didn’t know he’d been missing. After the matter of Kou’s birth and place in his family had been resolved, they’d set out to help Daisuke with his “girl troubles”, which taught Souji even more about peer relationships than he ever thought he’d be subjected to. That said, the pair had been even more adamant about getting his contact info than Rise, and Souji was expecting regular phone calls starting the day after he got to Kofu.

 

Ayane and her trombone, taller than her in the picture taken by the Samegawa, made him think of the instrument in his bags, stowed away above him. Her quiet determination and the stubborn set to her lips was something he’d grown used to seeing, especially after she was passed over for the school concert. No longer content to simply accept her place in the band, she’d set to bending the instrument to her will. Some of the scenes only he and the fish were privy to, her stubborn resolve and sheer obstinance when the instrument refused to cooperate had made his brows hit his bangs more than once. Her ticket was still in his wallet, and his parting words to her, besides the invitation to text him, was that he’d hold her to that promise. The blush had been expected, but the steely grit in her eyes and the determined smile told him he had nothing to worry about.

 

Photos of Ai and Naoki complimented their well-wishes from the train station. The open happiness in Ai’s smile reminded him that he wasn’t the only person who’d changed over time, nor the only one who’d beaten the odds of his upbringing. She’d flirted lightly with him, more to see which of the girls among the investigation team would react the most, but their little secret was how it was all out of fun. Keeping his lady’s name a secret, he’d gone to her for advice on a woman’s mind and perspective when he felt like he’d hit a wall. Once they’d gotten past her insistence on solutions that involved multi-million-yen credit cards and portions of his life savings, she’d been an able and ready source of advice. Some of it had to be taken with a grain of salt, of course, and he’d always had to be careful about never quite disclosing who he was asking for advice for, but she’d told him to keep in touch so he’d have ready fashion advice, since he clearly “had no taste of his own.”

 

Naoki, still set on helping his family’s store, had made the comment more than once that he’d probably be too busy beating Junes’ sales records to chat much, but left the option open for texting. He also hadn’t been able to resist the dig that he’d gladly offer Souji business tips when he came back, promising a new business centre in Inaba. Beneath the glum passivity and part-of-the-wallpaper mask, Naoki surprised Souji with a sharp wit that rivalled Yosuke and Kou. Though his friend bordered on cocky, Souji looked forward to seeing how his friend made his dream a reality. He’d caught Naoki off guard with that, but, like with the others, the promise of something grand glittered in Naoki’s eyes. Also, he caught a few dry remarks between Naoki and Yosuke in the last days before his departure. He had no idea where, if anywhere, it would go, but he hoped for the best.

 

After the photos came the letters. Two that had been passed on from the daycare centre, one from Yuuta and the other from an Eri Minami. The letter from Yuuta had been about what he’d expected, starting with thanks to the “old grownup”, and ending with a long description of the most recent Featherman X episodes. Eri’s had been shorter and much more to the point, thanking him for opening her eyes and saying what she needed to hear instead of just agreeing with her. The two were evidently still working toward being a family, and they both echoed a note of hope for the future. Shu’s farewell letter carried a similar note to it, though it ended with a request that Souji remain his tutor in the next school year, even over the long distance. The request was buried in the various reports of his adventures with the exchange student, which brought a smile to Souji’s lips, but he did promise himself to keep the boy in mind.

 

Sayoko hadn’t left a letter, nor sent one from Africa, but Souji hoped for the best nonetheless. He palmed her ID card and shuffled it in with the rest of his momentos, keeping his mind from wandering down those hallways and hospital rooms, and simply wishing her well. Hisano had sent a letter from where she’d moved, regaling him with tales of her children and how much she realized she’d missed by staying in Inaba. That letter always brought a surge of happiness with it, no matter how often he read it. Death’s Lady had found a reason to live. The Fox hadn’t sent a letter either, though after the renovations to the shrine, Souji was surprised it hadn’t found a way around not having fingers or thumbs. He did, however, receive a postcard from the local souvenir shop, on which was the picture of a large red fox wearing a new red bandana. Yesterday he’d gone to visit the enigmatic shrine animal, only for him to not show up. Souji did find the old red bandana resting on the shrine steps, however, and a leaf for which the fox was so well known among the investigation team resting atop it. The bandana was in his bag, as was the velvet key. That thought brought him Margaret, and a half-smile crept across his face. He’d heard of women learning things through strange means, but he’d never expected to show himself through his Personas in that manner. He still didn’t understand what appealed to her so much, but she’d seemed more than satisfied. And as for her parting gift, well… Souji grinned for a moment. Thieving older women indeed.

 

The train’s chime interrupted his reminiscing. _‘Passengers departing at Kofu Station, please have your bags and possessions ready. We accept no liability for misplaced or lost effects. I repeat...’_

 

Souji glanced out the window, surprised by how much time and distance his memories had taken up. The train just passed Hokuto, and the urban sprawl of Yamanashi Prefecture’s Kofu appeared when the train took a turn, spreading out like modern art block models and grey canvas sheets. Despite only having been there a year, Souji came to expect the vibrant greens and yellows of Inaba over each hill. Even the town centre and cement roads seemed clearer from the top of the hill. Kofu, where he’d be living until he finished high school, was limned in hazy grey soot and smog, with the buildings looking like ordered family gravestones while the parks, breaks in grey few and far between, were faded to the hue of antifreeze. Finally putting the letters and photos away, he pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the message on the screen. Directions. An address.

 

_The desk clerk has the key, give him your name. Room 1736. We’ll see you at the end of the week. Mom._

\--

 

The apartment complex looked like it’d been plucked from Utsunomiya or Chiba and dropped from the sky into the backyard Tokyo suburb, a carbon copy of every other residence he’d lived in for as long as he could remember. Off the main streets to keep the noise down, cleaned and whitewashed walls, the same rows of trees in front near the office and walkway, even the bike racks were where he expected them to be. Large and spacious on the outside, the entire structure held itself separate from the bustle of the people on the streets and sidewalks. To Souji, it had the same air of emotional distance, pomp, pretention, and familial stagnation he’d gotten so used to, more effective at warding away people than a brick wall and iron gate. Before Inaba, it was bearable from lack of variety. Now it was suffocating. The revulsion weighed down his every step while the thought of staying here for at least a year choked his thoughts and spawned a headache.

 

The desk clerk had, as the instructions said, been accommodating enough to show him the door and hand over the key after learning his name. Souji had nodded politely in thanks, though the dull look and duller “welcome home sir” echoed the same heavy emptiness of the complex. When Souji entered the residence, the first thing that struck him, besides the door swinging shut like a prison grate, was the sterility of it. There was furniture and cooking appliances, a fridge and TV and tables, high and low. The blinds looked recently cleaned, and the entire place smelled like a hospital.

 

_Nanako’s weakened frame covered with blankets and machines, doctors and nurses bustling around her._

_The smothering guilt, knowing the TV world had taken an innocent because of him._

_Dojima’s haunted eyes, begging for an answer. Yukiko’s arms on his shoulders. Her scent. “It’s not your fault.”_

_Laboured breathing. Weak voice. “Big... Bro... I’m scared...”_

Souji shook his head sharply, the memories nearly knocking him over. He tossed his keys to the nearby counter, moving to his room by memory. He’d never set foot in this place, but his room was the last one on the right. Always had been, and he’d never known it to change. The room itself was as bare as an empty tomb. A large window, desk and chair, futon, small couch, and low table were spread out before him, reminiscent of his room in Inaba. Only this wasn’t home.

 

Contrary to what the clerk said, Souji didn’t view this apartment, with its windows and polished counters and concrete walls as a home. It was a place to cook, eat, study, sleep, and encounter his parents when they finally arrived, but there wasn’t a trace of the family that dwelled within. No pictures adorned the walls or tables, all the cutlery and plates were box sets, the blankets came from packaged catalogues, and the sheer sterility of the place struck an old, familiar cord. This was the house he’d always known, no matter its location, the people who dwelled within bound together by common blood or marriage bond. Never a place of laughter, parties, or emotions.

 

No, this wasn’t home, Souji knew. Home was Inaba with its small, homey quarters, the smell of Nanako’s breakfast and Dojima’s coffee, the door pad with all its shoes when the team got together, no matter the reason. Home was the gazebo by the Samegawa and the table on the hill overlooking town, where all the colours felt brighter and clearer no matter the time or season. Home was tea and flower-print kimonos, the feeling of age and tradition, pale skin, dark eyes, and coal-black hair.

 

His pre-Inaba life beckoned with spectral hands, taunting his determination and offering the promise of dull, sedated mediocrity. “Not this time,” Souji promised himself. “Not now, not ever.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

One lesson both life and experience taught was that the anticipation of something and the reality of it rarely, if ever, met. Ask any desk jockey, new hire in retail, or rabid sports fan. Anticipation was always bound by the individual’s imagination, while reality danced to the tune of circumstance and consequence. So when Souji arrived in Kofu, he’d sworn not to get caught in the same rut that constituted most of his pre-Inaba life. Wake up, eat breakfast and set dinner on a slow cook, walk to school, sometimes with classmates but usually not. Listen, learn, study, eat, and exercise, not always in that order. Go home, study more, eat dinner, clean up, sleep. There had been variations involving phone calls, holidays (but not vacations), and encounters with business associates of each parent, either at the Seta residence, wherever it happened to be, or elsewhere. The days passed in a blur, more hazy than the fog in the TV world without his glasses, and the years rolled by without a care. Returning from Inaba, he’d sworn not to let himself fall in the same rut. It was his life, as he’d said and seen so often in Inaba, and it was his choice how to live it.

 

However, making rules is very different from living by them. Anyone who has tried a diet or new exercise regimen will say that. Which was why, two weeks after arriving in Kofu, Souji felt his old life encroaching on the new one he was trying to create. Old habits, like the same food dishes, arriving home at the same time no matter how many detours he took, moving through school on autopilot, and even having the same dreamless nights mocked his desire to change. It would have been worse without his friends from Inaba texting and calling regularly. Yosuke and Naoto had taken it upon themselves to take pictures when the tales of the group’s antics became too unbelievable, and his cell background was a collage of familiar faces that made him smile every time he opened the phone. The pictures, hearing their voices, and the letters he’d received from Nanako and Teddie were his buffer against the dull grey around him. But as strong as it was, he could feel it start to weaken.

 

He’d never been able to tell anyone how isolated he’d felt when he first moved to Inaba. Polite to a fault and dealing with the novelty of having extended family, plus learning on his feet how to interact with his cousin, he expected to fall into a similar routine as he’d had all his life. But then the murders happened. Chie and Yosuke hadn’t let him keep to himself and hide, and with the revelations of the TV world, the Shadows, and the awakening of his Persona, he had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and let the dull grey take over.

 

After that first fight, everything changed. It wasn’t just the roaring in his ears, the flood of power rushing through his veins, or the name of a god made manifest on his lips that tilted his world. Instead, it was how bright and colourful everything was, even in the face of death. His head cleared the first time, burning away the fog that he’d felt for so long, and seen in the dream his first night in the Dojima household. He faced Yosuke’s Shadow, more frightening in appearance and nature than anything he could ever have imagined, and yet he did so with an electric grin on his face. Months after the fight, and so many more battles since, it remained a potent memory that always brought the body’s chemical candy to his veins. It wasn’t the fighting itself, he later realized, but the movements, the actions, knowing that he was doing something that mattered in the moment and that the tools he needed, his Personas, were always where he needed them. It was heady, frightening, euphoric and somehow pure in a way that always left him wanting more. The fear didn’t touch him then, not his perceived inadequacies or the words of his parents, not the odds of death, no matter how high, and he never hesitated or wasted a move.

 

The purpose shared by the team, the camaraderie in the TV and the friendship out of it, and having an irreplaceable place among those people had been new, terrifying, and instantly addicting. The title ‘Leader’ was synonymous with acceptance, not overarching authority. It meant he belonged.

 

He wanted it again. He wanted that awareness of his own mortality, having a purpose worth fighting for, making a difference to someone, and having a place neither people nor circumstance could take away.

 

The phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He reached over and grabbed the receiver, pointedly ignoring how mechanical the action was. “Seta residence.”

 

“You’re a hard guy to get a hold of!”

 

Souji paused for a minute, then grinned. “Only for someone with your timing, Kou. How’re things?”

 

“Fine, fine. Inaba seems so much quieter without you here, y’know?”

 

“You can hardly blame me for that. And it’s not like I brought a motorcycle gang with me.”

 

Kou laughed. “Please. You were at the centre of everything that happened here, man. The Amagi Challenge, all those disappearances, and then Kanji Tatsumi, that Detective Prince, and even Risette join your little posse. I mean, how often do you think that happens around here?”

 

A good point, Souji admitted. The most colourful personalities to enter Inaba in what must have been ages, and they’d banded together to solve the murder case. Although… “What’s this about Yukiko-san?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You mentioned the Amagi Challenge. I can see where people get the ideas about Rise-san and Kanji-kun, but what about Yukiko-san?”

 

“Oh, that. Well you two were going out, right? I mean, the only person she ever spent that much time with was Chie- I mean, Satonaka-san. Then she hooks up with you and Hanamura-san after she reappears, like she was there the whole time.”

 

“So people think we were going out?”

 

“Well, weren’t you? Hanamura-san let slip that you two have a thing, or had one or something, and now he gets all fidgety when we ask him. It usually takes a lot to ruffle his feathers. Aside from the cross-dressing thing, anyway.”

_“So, seriously, which one’s more your type?”_

_“Are you kidding?”_

_“No way. Dead serious.  C’mon, man to man, just us.”_

_“…Yukiko, I guess.”_

_Yosuke, I’m going to kill you_. “It’s not that hard to get under his skin. Mention buying Chie-san steak, or breaking her Trial of the Dragon DVD.”

 

“Seriously? Man, she musta been pissed.”

 

“Or buying Teddie clothes. Yes, definitely mention that.”

 

“Who’s Teddie?”

 

“He’ll know.”

 

Scratching. Pen on paper. “Cool. You didn’t answer my question though.”

 

“Which was?”

 

Kou scoffed. “C’mon, you know. Were you and Amagi-san more than friends?”

_If only you knew. No, scratch that, it’s better if you don’t. Not yet._ “No one’s business if we were, but you really need to stop listening to the Yasogami rumour mill.”

 

“Yeah right. All that time together, on the field trips and study sessions, and yer saying there’s nothing there? People’ve said they saw you together by the Samegawa all the time.”

 

“Don’t you remember all the rumours about me when I got there?” Souji started counting on his fingers. “That I’d inherited my family’s fortune and needed a place to get away from the gold diggers, or that my hair colour meant I was from America. That I was a model and rising star that was about to make it big. Or that, because I lived with a detective, I must be related to the Shiroganes. King Moron made it sound like I was a playboy who beat on women half the time, and because of Kashiwagi-san, people thought I-“

 

“Yeah, don’t go there,” Kou cut in. “I have her for homeroom, and, seriously, how did you deal with that?”

 

“I thought about who she was replacing. A lot.”

 

“Blegh. Dude, seriously?”

 

“It helped a bit. It wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.”

 

“No kidding.” Kou sighed, accompanied by a dull _thunk_ as his head hit the back of his chair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. About the rumours. I mean, there was one going around that Hanako-san had a serious thing for you. You buy that?”

_Thank you_ so _much for reminding me_. That revelation had hit him harder than Shadow Kanji’s fists. It still sent shivers down his spine, and was one of the few times in his life he could remember being stunned completely speechless. “How’s Daisuke?”

 

“Same ol’ same ol’. Misses you, though he’d be the last to say it. He’s been nagging me to call you all week.”

 

“Why? He’s got my number.”

 

“Dunno. Maybe it’s not macho enough for him. Know he misses the times at Aiya! though.”

 

Souji frowned. He was cut off by the lock turning and his mother moving through the door, talking on her cell a mile a minute, scribbling down notes and sorting through a pile of paper in her arms. She shucked her shoes and coat, movements anyone else would find awkward made smooth, or at least more balanced and less jerky, by long years of practice. Neither a glance nor word came Souji’s way as she moved toward the family office, checking the calendar and glancing into the kitchen, where dinner was slowly cooking, before shutting the door behind her. Another event right from memory that hadn’t changed.

 

“Souji? Still there?”

 

“Yeah, just a sec.” He got up, closed and locked the door to the outside, then took to his chair again. “What’s this about Aiya? You two boycotting the place or something?”

 

“You kidding? Not on your life. No, I think it reminds him of our talks when you were here, y’know? I mean, that was our place, through the good and bad, and now it’s just his and my place. Ain’t the same without you. I think Hanamura-san and Tatsumi-kun and Shirogane-kun feel the same. Which reminds me,” Kou cut Souji off. “You’re still coming back the end of May, right?”

 

“Yosuke mentioned that too, huh?”

 

“He’s not the only one. I’ve been wondering about it myself.”

 

The end of May. Three days off school, plus the weekend. Part of him, a big part, was already champing at the bit to be on the train back west. “That’s the plan.”

 

“Wow man, such enthusiasm, “ Kou chuckled. “Don’t spare my feelings or anything.”

 

“No, I didn’t mean that.” Obviously the apartment was affecting him more than he expected. “It’s been tough settling in here. All new faces and places, y’know?”

 

“Umm… Nope. Not really,” Kou laughed. Souji couldn’t help the return chuckle this time.

 

“Fair enough. But yeah, I’ll be coming back, one way or another.”

 

“Even on a bus if the trains are full?”

 

“A full train to Inaba?”

 

“Hm. Yeah, good point.”

 

“Yes. Even if I have to hitchhike the whole way.”

 

“Sounds good. I’ll tell Daisuke. So, what’s the big city like?”

 

“Big city? It’s not Tokyo, you know.”

 

“It’s a lot bigger than Inaba. So you must have everything we don’t, right?”

 

Souji heard his mother’s voice still chattering away in the office. Turning his head against the sound, he replied, “it’s noisier, busier, more… grey, I guess.”

 

“Grey?”

 

“Yeah. Not a lot of trees or fields. Office buildings and bars everywhere, and everyone wants to sell you something. Nothing like Inaba,”

 

“You sound homesick. You’ve got anything you want there, so what’s all the gloom for? They have basketball courts there, right?”

 

“Yeah, one near my school.”

 

“So why haven’t you tried it? You’d better not be getting out of shape.”

 

Souji’s brain sputtered, coughed, and stalled. That was an excellent question; why _hadn’t_ he stopped at the basketball court? It was on his way to school every day, he wasn’t pressed for time, and he’d been looking for a break in his routine.

 

“I… I’m not sure.”

 

That didn’t sound strange to Kou. Instead it sent him into laughter again. “Not sure? C’mon man, if it’s on the way to school, then the ladies’ll be passing by. You’ve been there since March and it’s never occurred to you to show ‘em yer stuff?”

 

“Guess I… haven’t had my head on straight.”

 

“No kidding. Seriously, get some hoops in. I’ll be hurt if you can’t keep up when you get here. And, you can use my gift. That’ll really drive the girls nuts.”

 

“Gift… Just a minute.” Putting the receiver against the chair’s arm, and ignoring Kou’s cry of protest, he slipped to his room and took the gift from his carry-on bag. It was a basketball, as he’d suspected when Kou gave it to him, polished, new, and- “Oh, you’re kidding.” Souji went back to the phone immediately, catching Kou mid-rant. “Are you serious? You _signed_ it?”

 

“Okay, I’m seriously hurt that you didn’t notice. Now I know yer head’s not on straight. And that ball’ll be worth a lot one day.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Ichijo Kou, basketball prodigy and exchange student extraordinaire. Mark my words.”

 

“You forgot aspiring actor and matchmaker.”

 

“Oh, you’re funny Souji.” There was a distant rumble of voices on the line. “And I’m out of time. Let me know when you’re free in May. I wanna make sure the city hasn’t taken off your edge.”

 

“I will. Keep out of trouble ‘til then.”

 

“Back atcha. And I still don’t buy that you and Amagi-san aren’t a thing. I want details when you get here.” The line went dead, and Souji put the receiver back, checked dinner, grabbed his autographed ball and headed to his room, carefully closing the door before going to his dresser. It was strange, and made him feel like a flat-footed idiot, that Kou’s simple question brought his attention to the simplest and most logical detail he’d missed all this time. A basketball court was a place where he could exercise, get out of the house, and get back in his element, or a small part of it at least. Maybe he was looking for too large and complex an answer, he reasoned, that the smaller, simpler details escaped his notice. Baby steps. Details. Like the investigation. He glanced at the clock. 3:42. There was enough time to shoot some hoops and be back for dinner. He cracked the dresser open and glanced in, pulling out his fingerless gloves.

 

Something he’d adapted to since entering the TV world was the remnants of their battles that didn’t always fade with a healing spell. The ripped clothes and blood stains were bad enough, but the scars would have set Dojima off like a Chinese New Year’s fireworks display. There was no easy way to lie, to explain why bloody claw marks weren’t _really_ from claws. So Souji got better at hiding them, fishing for terms like ‘the new style’ or ‘some fashion I saw in a magazine’ to explain the excess of long-sleeved shirts, or coloured wraps when it got too hot for sleeves, in his wardrobe. The whole team had scars, though some less obvious than others, and while Kanji and Chie could explain them away by lifestyle or training injuries, Teddie had his suit, and Yosuke used his job and the occasional ‘shelf stocking accident’ as an excuse, Souji had never found an easy way to explain his. The burn mark on his left forearm from Yukiko’s Shadow, claw marks on his chest from Teddie’s, a slash scar above his knee when Rise’s Shadow got too close, and a puncture mark near his right shoulder and similar scars on his left palm and fingers from Adachi felt too personal to show or brush off. There were others, raking his sides or cutting down his back, times when he dove in to help a friend or miscalculated and his armour didn’t hold, smaller scars from the various Shadows they fought in the TV world that were easier to dismiss and harder to see. But the ones he did notice were kept hidden, from his cousin and uncle, from the gang in Inaba, and definitely from his parents. So he’d kept his long-sleeved shirts and long-legged shorts, kept wrapping his forearm out of a ‘quaint rural remembrance tradition’, and invested in several pairs of gloves.

 

Pulling on the gloves and hiding the scars (his mother had been engrossed in her conversation, and he’d held the receiver in his left hand as a precaution), he grabbed the ball and headed for the door. He made it past the family office and into the living area when he stopped, his mother’s gaze finally finding him.

 

Izumi Seta, formerly Izumi Dojima, elder sister to Ryotaro Dojima, and aunt to Nanako (though Souji would readily wager vital parts of his anatomy that the two had never met) was a woman who caught and held attention in inverse proportions to her size, being barely 5’2. It wasn’t just her physical features, which were attractive but not traffic-stopping, that made people listen, but her presence and the authority with which she spoke. For so long as he could remember, his mother had only raised her voice four times. She never needed to, because she often had a pertinent point to make, and was usually right. He’d seen whole tables at business meetings quiet down to catch what she said. On the other hand, Souji found her intellectual savvy stopped at the boundaries of business and finances. A career woman dedicated to her position as manager at an international bank, she rarely made much input on her son’s choice of fashion, school classes, friends, sports, or hobbies. Though not as bad as his father, Souji found speaking to her about anything personal took a back seat to her cell phone and associates, and she did little to change that. It used to bother him, but that was before he’d found ways around her schedules and questions. And the emptiness in his life where his parents, people who asked him about his day or made time in their schedule for him alone, should have been only bothered him if he thought about it. Still, she was the only mother he had, and he stopped in the living area, sensing she wanted to talk.

 

“How was Inaba? Did you learn anything?”

 

Souji wanted to roll his eyes. She didn’t have the expressions for small talk, and he made a point of keeping his voice even. “The town was pleasant, different from here. Uncle Dojima was accommodating, and his daughter was a pleasure to be around.”

 

“Ah yes. Chisato, isn’t it?”

 

“Chisato was his wife, mother. She died several years ago, when Nanako was a child.”

 

She blinked owlishly. A small part, the part of the child Souji never completely outgrew, wondered if she was surprised, or even distressed, by her brother being a widower. It wanted her to show some kind of familial emotion, or even awareness. But her features, as the much larger part knew they would, settled. “Oh. I see. I remember him mentioning that.” Souji didn’t bother asking if she attended the funeral; he knew the answer. “I expect your academics didn’t suffer from the change of locale?”

 

“No mother. It was different being around new people, but nothing I couldn’t adjust to. No need to worry.”

 

“Good.” She noticed the gloves, and the ball in his arms. “Are you going out?”

 

“I need to stretch my legs. There’s a basketball court nearby, so I won’t be long.”

 

“I see. Well your father should be home by the end of next week. He’ll be glad to see you.”

 

Souji bit his tongue. His father lived and breathed for his company and the position he held, which meant any time set aside for ‘family’ or ‘offspring’ was used for corporate crises. “How was America?”

 

“Different. Involved. Profitable. We may go back in a few years.”

 

“To expand, or hold things together?”

 

She laughed, an odd sound that did odder things to his insides. Souji’s earliest, most elusive memories involved feeling safe, comfortable, content, and a woman’s voice, purer than any strain he could imagine, singing to him. It frustrated him that the memories lacked pictures, words, a scent, or anything to grant definition or perspective. He expected the voice belonged to his mother, but he couldn’t remember her ever comforting him, or singing. Not when he was distressed or injured, not for her own leisure, never. “The latter, I expect. But I may be surprised.”

 

“Anything’s possible. I’ll be back later. Oh, by the way, I’m going back to Inaba during my May school break.”

 

The owlish blinks were absent, but a bemused quirk of her mouth and raised eyebrow expressed her surprise. “Why?”

 

“I met some good people there. People I want to see again.”

 

“And such good people can’t be found here?”

 

Souji gritted his teeth. He knew she wasn’t malicious, but he hated how his mother worded things sometimes, as though not finding those people was because he wasn’t looking, or that all friends were created equal. However, he’d keep those details to himself. He’d sooner eat rusty nails and undergo eye surgery on a roller coaster than mention Yosuke, Teddie, Yukiko and the others to his parents. “I’m sure they can be, but I was there for almost a year. We had some good times, and some will be moving on soon, so I’d like to take the chance and visit them. Will that interfere with anything?”

 

“No. Do as you wish, so long-“

 

“-as my grades and opportunities don’t suffer. They won’t; I promise.”

 

“Very well. Have fun then.”

 

Souji grabbed his jacket and keys on the way out, and didn’t slow his rapid steps until he was two blocks away. He knew his parents weren’t mean-spirited, having seen how dedicated to their jobs they were firsthand, but living with them and their half-hearted conversations, and their economical view of people, again was going to be a chore.

 

Souji made it to the basketball court without incident, moving through the crowds and streams of people like he’d never left them. It was set at the opening paths of a large park, complete with benches, lamp posts, trails, and people. The greenery itself was limited to shrubs, brush, and trees, but the colours were a welcome change from the grey. The court itself was oddly empty, though Souji figured any school teams would use their own gyms to practice.

 

He walked the length and breadth of the court several times, stretching his legs in the process and getting the feel for asphalt under his feet, unlike the wood floors at Yasogami. The autographed ball felt odd against the leather of his gloves, but he determined to get used to it. He moved to centre court and stared at the hoop, idly spinning the ball up on a fingertip.

 

Tense. Crouch, the ball hitting asphalt. Weight forward, and he ran up the left side, hooking the ball up. Backboard. Net. Ground.

 

He collected the ball and headed to near-centre, eyed a shot, crouched, and followed through. Nothing but net.

 

Maybe it was his homesickness for Inaba, or the autograph on the ball, or that he’d just spoken to the guy, but Souji swore he saw Kou’s laidback smile waiting for him at centre court, complete with basket ball shorts and jersey. It was an invitation, a challenge, and though he’d be playing against himself, Souji didn’t think twice about it. He hung his jacket on a nearby bench, took centre, and dashed down court. Right side, jump. Backboard. Rim. Net.

 

The time passed in the slap of the ball on asphalt or backboard, running steps, jumps or shots that almost always preceded the _swish_ of the net. Several people started gathering at the edges of the court. Some were children or the elderly, but most were his own age, and if he’d bothered to give it much attention, Souji would’ve noticed more girls among the crowd than guys. The few times he missed the mark, the rebounds came straight – or almost straight – back, which made for some good recovery shots. One rebound ended up in the crowd, in the hands of a girl perhaps a year older than Nanako. Crouching with a hand wave, Souji poured all his charm into his smile, one that never failed to perk his cousin up. With a cheery laugh, she rolled the ball back. With a jaunty wave, Souji sank a dozen more shots before checking his watch. He’d been there for more nearly two hours.

 

When he headed back to his jacket, he noticed a tall girl, around his own age, resting against the bench with a smirk. She rose to her full height when he approached, and he noticed the mark of Sundaikofu High School, where he attended, on her jacket collar. She was taller than Yukiko, though shorter than himself, curly brown hair, oak-coloured eyes, and an hourglass figure that left him searching for a polite place to look. Settling on her eyes, he nodded and collected his effects. She cocked an eyebrow and waved for him to stop. “You’re pretty good, Seta. Are you going to join the team?”

 

Souji stopped short. Perhaps it was his upbringing, or being around parents who often knew more about his schedule – as it revolved around theirs – than he did, but being out of the loop with people always put him on his guard. “You have me at a disadvantage. Which team should I join, how are you sure I’m not on one yet, and how do you know my name?”

 

“You’re Seta Souji, the new transfer student in class 3-4 at Sundaikofu High. My boyfriend’s in the same class, and he mentioned you.”

 

“Without bothering to introduce himself, no less.”

 

She shrugged shamelessly. “You don’t stick around much after class, and your colouring’s pretty distinct. Is it natural?”

 

“Yes.” The answer was automatic, worn smooth from repetition.

 

“Cool.”

 

Souji chuckled, a brittle, humourless sound. “Don’t worry, you can say it. Weird.”

 

“Pfft. Not in the least.  I have a friend who tie dyes her hair every week and dresses like a carnival billboard. I swear she’s colour-blind, but she loves it. Compared to her, natural grey’s different, but pretty, well, bland.”

 

“Silver.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“My hair’s silver. Not grey. I’m nowhere near that old.”

 

Her eyes were dancing with mirth now. “Of course. Get that a lot?”

 

“You have no idea. So then, who’re you? Aside from the basketball team’s recruitment manager.”

 

“Aha! Some humour! I expected you to be dull and boring.”

 

“I get that a lot too.”

 

Her smirk split her face now, showing several dimples. “Without a doubt. I’m Takenaka Megumi, class 3-2.” She bowed politely, a motion that made interesting things move under her shirt.

 

He automatically returned the bow. “Seta Souji. Though you knew that.” A cocked eyebrow above the smirk was his answer. “So what else about me is public knowledge?”

 

“Knowledge? Not much else. Plenty of rumours though, like you being a drug-addicted genius and the gloves cover up the track marks, or that those cloth strips on your arm are covering yakuza tattoos. I hear there’re betting pools on where you’re from and what your background is, and that’s not getting into the theories about whether your hair’s naturally that colour, and your reasons for dying it if it isn’t. You’re pretty popular.”

 

Souji sighed and started walking, indicating Takenaka to follow. It figured. Inaba hardly had the monopoly on talkative students, and the number of classes and students in his grade meant that ‘interesting’ and ‘popular’ was food for the rumour mill for months. “Spare me the gossip, if it’s all the same to you. Honestly, don’t people have better things to do with their time?”

 

“Awww, don’t want to be the centre of attention? Some would kill for that chance, you know.”

 

“Same song, same dance. They can have it.”

 

“Been there, huh?”

 

They reached an intersection near his apartment. “More than once. The punch line rarely changes.”

 

“Mmmm, fair enough. Well, see you around. If you run into Toyama Yoshiro, he’ll be interested in your moves on the court.”

 

“We’ll see. Until next time, Takenaka-san.”

 

“You too, Seta-kun.”

 

Souji made his way back home, turning the details of the encounter over in his mind, arranging and rearranging the facts and information like Naoto taught him, looking at it from different perspectives. She was attractive, there was no denying that. He got the strong impression that she knew it though, and was used to it being the first thing people noticed. That self-assurance and almost challenging poise reminded him of Rise, so tactile and used to tossing out comments that threw the others, or at least the more conservative ladies in the group, into a tailspin. Her mannerisms, hardly typical for an ‘acceptable’ Japanese girl, told him breaking out of the mould was a choice she’d made, not a choice that made her. He’d have to see more to know, but the investigative part of him, so well-fed after Inaba, expected that there weren’t many people she confided in.

 

His thought were broken as he entered the apartment with a monotone ‘I’m home’. His mother gave a half-hearted welcome from the living room table, which was covered with a scattering of papers and pens. As efficient as she was, and Souji knew she could do the work of two without missing a lunch break, her organization always left something to be desired.

 

The rest of the evening passed quietly, Souji fixing dinner and cleaning up with still no word from his father. Internally, he shrugged and revelled in the change to his schedule. He’d have to thank Kou later.

 

\--

 

With the knowledge of the nearby court and its lack of regular use from anyone else, Souji quickly became a consistent guest at the park. After class he could be found shooting hoops, though he’d made a point of bringing shorts and a t-shirt rather than running down court in his uniform slacks. He also brought his forearm wraps, which, as they had in Inaba, became a fixture and staple of his appearance to any who noticed. His mother simply said it was ‘good that he got the exercise’. Souji took to breaking his old routines apart with relish, taking a deep-seated joy when pieces of his old life fell away.

 

It wasn’t until the following week, eight days after meeting Takenaka, that a new ripple hit his life.

 

He’d just warmed up and was lining up a shot from the three-point line when he caught sight of a large group of students, from Sundaikofu High if the uniforms were any indication, on the edge of the court. Souji knew that every time he practiced, people watched. Whether adults for entertainment, children for novelty, or students out of interest, he knew they were there. He knew there were girls among his regular audience, and his ego was healthy enough to admit that he was probably the reason they watched as often as they did. Part of him was uncomfortable with the attention. Another part of him preened under it. All in all though, unless the ball ended up out of court, Souji ignored them. It was a public park, after all.

 

Takenaka and several other girls were hanging off the arms of various male students in the group, and Souji felt a sharp stab of longing. He missed Yukiko. He missed their phone calls, conversations, even the texts reading _‘thinking of you’_ when she was busy. She was taking a well-deserved vacation with her parents, and promised to call when she got back.

 

Pulling his mind back to this new group, they weren’t part of the regulars. All around his age, all male except the nearby gaggle of girls (groupies, in his mind), and they were closely packed, used to being in each others’ company. The one at the fore, Takenaka close at hand, caught Souji’s stare, returning it with his own, both friendly and openly appraising.

 

Souji pulled out of his crouch and rested the ball on his hip, turning to the group. “Did you need something?”

 

Takenaka’s beau came forward without hesitation. “Thought I’d come see it for myself. I heard you’re pretty good at hoops, and figured a proper introduction was in order.”

 

Souji’s gaze flicked to Takenaka and back. “Your team recruitment manager wasn’t wrong.” Takenaka and the teen laughed. “Besides, it’s not much of an introduction at this point. I’m Seta Souji. You’re Toyama Yoshiro of Sundaikofu High, the same class as me, and, unless I’m off the mark, captain of the basketball for at least two years.” Toyama’s eyebrows raised while Takenaka chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that people stopped to hear. Souji’s eyes didn’t waver. “And before you ask, no, I’m not interested in joining the team. I told Takenaka-san as much.”

 

Toyama broke out a broad, charming grin. “Did I mention joining the team?”

 

Souji remained unaffected. “No, but if you’re not recruiting, then I have to wonder why the entire team, plus staff, is talking to the new transfer student.”

 

“Because the new transfer student is a fascinating topic of conversation. You don’t talk to anyone, and shoot hoops at a public court when there’re plenty at the school. I hate to say it, but you’re not decreasing your popularity by pulling the ‘mysterious tough-guy loner’ thing.”

 

Souji grunted. _Dammit_. That’s exactly what he’d been trying for. “So you’re looking into the rumours?”

 

“Peh. Hardly. I wanted to see what all the noise about you on the court was about. Some of the team-“ he jerked his head back “-were wondering the same, so they came along. You don’t want to join the team, that’s up to you. I’m not gonna push it. But I do wonder why you play if not to be on a team.”

 

Souji was quiet for several moments, rolling responses around before opening his mouth. “Exercise. Practice. It gets me out of the house. And I’m doing it for a friend.”

 

Toyama’s brow raised. “For a friend? Someone close in the hospital or something?”

 

“Hardly. I met him at my last school. He’s transferring after he graduates, and loves basketball. I figure my best gift is a good challenge next time I see him.”

 

“Hm.” Toyama looked thoughtful, and Takenaka’s smirk was equally pensive. “That’s not the answer I expected, Seta-kun. More to you than you let on.”

 

Souji’s entire almost-year in Inaba came to mind. The team, the secrets and baggage, their Shadows, and the Personas that resulted. “In my experience, that’s the case with most people.”

 

Toyama grunted thoughtfully, then shrugged. “I dunno. I know some pretty shallow people. So, you up for a game?” Souji stared thoughtfully when Toyama continued, “It’s not to recruit you. I just figure you could give your friend a better challenge if you play against people. And we can always use the practice with someone new. So whaddya say? 3s or 5s, you choose.” The others were gathering around Toyama, and Souji’s acceptance froze when Toyama spoke up again, grinning. “Well, your hesitance is understandable. You’re nervous, in awe. It’s only natural in the presence of the master.”

 

Souji was stunned speechless for a half-second before he burst out laughing. The bravado was so flawlessly executed, so seamlessly delivered, that he knew his answer right away. Controlling his chuckles, he walked up to Toyama, the two the same height. “Well then, in that case I’m stuck with a moral dilemma. Do I drop it and walk away? All that hot air could power this neighbourhood for a month.” Several team members grumbled a bit, but Toyama’s grin deepened, reaching his eyes and burning for the challenge like a race horse at the starting gate. “Or, do I take you up on it? And mop the court with you, from one end to the other.” The air crackled, charged and alive with anticipation.

 

Toyama cocked his head to one side, his grin following. “So?”

 

Souji spun the ball, twirling and balancing it on his forefinger. “You’re on.”                                    


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Hmm… Wait. Oh, nope. Still don’t own Persona or the characters.

 

**Chapter 3**

 

Dozens of shots from all across the court, a relentless cacophony of crashes against the backboard, and countless adrenaline fuelled runs up and down the asphalt told Souji one thing about his opponent: he was damn good. Their first two games, first 3-on-3, then 5-on-5, had been too close for either to let it go. Toyama had won by a point the first game, and Souji returned the favour during the second. The teams were well balanced, neither having the advantage, and Souji got the feeling this sort of practice wasn’t new to them.  He fit in with them, or perhaps they worked well around him, from the start, and Toyama had given 120% after the first whistle. The tie-breaker hurried to a close as Souji wiped the sweat out of his eyes, hearing the whistle announce another point scored. He ran interception, passed across, and watched as the ball sunk once more. Still tied.

 

The ball made its way to Toyama. Souji was sure they had to be near the end of the game. He zigged when he should have zagged, missed a swipe, and bolted after the team captain.

 

It was like a moment out of a movie. Souji’s team was three points ahead when Toyama made it to centre, and shot just as the whistle announced the game’s end. Forward it flew, hitting the backboard, spinning along the rim-

 

And sinking. Tie game.

 

Cheers arose from the team and spectators when Takenaka announced the scores while a disbelieving grin split Souji’s face. The team made its way to the sidelines, to the towels and water and, in some cases, exuberant girlfriends. Toyama came over with a spare water bottle and extended his hand. Souji brushed the sweat from his eyes and shook it firmly. “You don’t give up easy, do you?” Toyama asked.

 

“It’s a flaw.” Souji swished the water around his mouth and struggled to slow his breathing. “Best game I’ve had in a while.”

 

“You’re telling me. Your friend teach you to play like that?”

 

“Nope. He helped a lot, but I’ve been playing for years.”

 

“It’s paid off. Now I regret not pushing harder to get you on the team.” Souji’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and Toyama held his hands in front of him. “I said I wouldn’t, and I won’t. Not unless you want to. However, I wonder if you can be convinced of something else?”

 

“I’m listening,” Souji replied cautiously, taking small sips from the bottle.

 

“It’s good for the team if we do this, play with and against someone new. They can learn a lot from you, and we always need more practice. You want to get better for your own reasons, so why don’t we make it more regular?”

 

“You want me to be a trainer or assistant coach or something?”

 

Toyama shook his head, getting his breathing under control. “Nothing official. Just regular days and times when we put some real time into it. Like today. I leave the choice of courts to you.”

 

“Why?”

 

Toyama stared at him for several moments. “Why what?”

 

“Why me? Why now? Aren’t there students from other schools you could practice with?”

 

“You think I have an angle, don’t you?”

 

Souji paused, putting his thoughts in order. “I’m not used to people making such a big deal out of my involvement in something,” he replied finally. “In anything. I prefer to stay under the radar.”

 

“So I gathered.” Toyama jerked his head sharply to the side, leading Souji away from the others. “If I have an angle in this, it’s that I want to get better. Basketball, and this team, isn’t just a hobby to me. I’ve played against the other schools, met them in tournaments. It’s the same people, or new people trained by the same ones, y’know? You’re a rogue factor, a real challenge, and I want to get as much out of that as I can for as long as possible. That’s all.”

 

Souji thought it over. He’d been suspicious, but maybe too much so. Old habits died hard. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey, no worries.”

 

“Nothing official, right? Just practice?”

 

“That’s the plan.”

 

“If that’s the case, does three times a week work? Let’s play here, unless it’s raining.”

 

Toyama grinned. “Sounds good.” He cocked his water bottle in a salute. “Here’s to more turnouts like today.”

 

“You’re okay with draws?”

 

“Oh that won’t happen again,” Souji was assured with utmost confidence. “Today was a warm-up. It’ll be different next time.”

 

Souji couldn’t contain his laughter. Regardless of how much improvement Toyama felt he needed, he didn’t lack for self-assurance. “I’ll see you later then, Toyama-kun.”

 

“Later.”

 

Souji collected his things and left the court. The day had been interesting in its own right, useful for breaking his routines, but different enough that he needed the space to put the piece together.

 

Perhaps he was thinking too hard. While the team as a whole, and especially the team captain, had reasons to dislike his participation on the court, Toyama showed no indication of becoming spiteful or jealous. If anything, he revelled in the challenge, and showed no indications of the competitive dramatics and outright bitchiness Souji had experienced on his previous teams, Inaba excluded. The offer was an open door, and so long as it stayed that way, there wasn’t a reason not to practice with him. Takenaka seemed similarly forthright and sincere, something he hadn’t expected. That said, he couldn’t say anything about anyone else on the team. Even through the introductions and games, they’d just been names and faces moving in the same direction.

 

Souji’s remaining thoughts scattered like wedding confetti as he approached his apartment and saw someone at his door, one hand on the lock, the other holding an attaché case, and a cell phone expertly held between his ear and shoulder. There was an audible _click_ over the rapid-fire English from the man before he slipped into the apartment. Souji followed, every step calming his mind as naturally as breathing. His face showed nothing, and much as he hated the dull tranquility that settled over him, it was a habit too old to change after a few weeks of shooting hoops, or even a year away from home. No matter how life-changing the year was.

 

Souji shut and locked the door behind him, shucked off his shoes, and took Kou’s gift to his room before returning to the living area. He heard the cell phone snap closed. “Hello Father.”

 

The man jerked slightly and turned, facing his son. Much as Souji wondered, from the lack of affection he’d seen his parents give each other, if he’d been adopted, it was no guess from whom he got his colouring. Yuuma Seta, CEO of a capital investment company, work that complimented his wife’s perfectly, was Souji’s template for height, skin tone, and eye and hair colour, with the elder Seta’s perfectly groomed locks having gone prematurely grey in his mid-twenties. Kept lean by a sporadic exercise regimen and missed meals at the office, his height and shape were reflected in Souji before Inaba. While Souji’s height remained constant, his shoulders and chest had broadened with muscle from swinging a sword for so long, something that set him apart even from his basketball-obsessed peers on the court. It was something that went largely unnoticed at home, and Souji did enjoy the look enough to adapt his regular exercise to maintain it. A greater difference between father and son was in their eyes. Not the colour, for that was an identical match, but in their depth. Souji’s burned with the remnants of his adrenaline rush from the game with Toyama. His father’s had lost their sheen years before, passion and enthusiasm replaced with habit and ambition, and were now as flat and smooth as glass.

 

“Souji,” the elder Seta murmured. “I’m surprised. Weren’t you supposed to be with Dojima longer?”

 

“I stayed until the end of March, Father. It was time to come back, or so I was told.”

 

“Ah. Of course.”

 

“Mother says your trip was profitable.”

 

“It was.” A cell phone went off. “Ah, that must be Nakamura. Excuse me.”

 

“Of course, Father.”

 

With the conversation being mostly in English, Souji could have stayed and waited to speak to Yuuma. He could have practiced his own English after the conversation ended, or spoken to the man he hadn’t seen since the previous February. But he didn’t. He couldn’t think of anything to say between phone calls, and the calls would come. There were days he could set his watch to them.

 

Instead he retreated to his room, noticing his mother in the office in passing, and broke out his homework for the day. Not that he needed the time to work on it, but it made dealing with his parents so much easier. The next time they would talk would be in passing at dinner, or perhaps tomorrow’s breakfast. Then they’d all go their separate ways.

 

It used to bother him, how fractured his home life seemed. Parents were supposed to call home at night and make efforts to go on vacations, or bring souvenirs and tell stories when they went abroad. He often thought of Nanako and Dojima when his family’s workings, which he often called ‘selectively dysfunctional’, came to mind. Despite the wrinkles and an occasional crack in their lives, those two were bound to each other like nothing he’d ever seen before. Affection, commitment, and a marrow-deep love that neither words nor distance could break.

 

Souji shook his head. He always got reminiscent and maudlin when thinking of his cousin and uncle. He’d see them soon enough, and have to think of a gift for Nanako before he left. His parents could tend to their own matters, he decided. It wasn’t his problem.

 

They had their lives. He had his. And he wanted to see where his new life went.

 

\--

 

Despite the return of his father, or perhaps because of it, the Seta household ran as it had when Souji, or either of his parents, hadn’t been there, which was to say with smooth precision. Like a well-oiled machine, the trio worked around each others’ schedules, completing what they needed with the others and taking their pre-set place in the house. Souji had his room while his parents shared the office, or traded use of it with the living area, and soon only his room, the bathroom, and the kitchen lacked his parents’ writing utensils, post-it notes, and mini-calendars, set into a unique ordered chaos that, logically, should have set them at each others’ throats. Instead, much as the cogs and gears turned, his parents moved around each other’s habits with age-old familiarity. The TV was used only for the news and stock changes, someone’s phone was always ringing, and dinner became an affair not unlike the breakfast buffet at a cheap hotel, no matter the menu. Thus Souji had no problem setting up his own space and disappearing with his basketball and gloves to the park.

 

True to their arrangement, Toyama and the team met with Souji after school and put their backs into a few games. Sometimes Souji sat back and observed, learning and making suggestions. Other times he helped Takenaka keep score or call penalties. But most times, he played as hard as he could, matching Toyama’s skill with his own. Despite switching the team mates around and the regular betting, the two remained closely tied. It was heady and rich, every day leaving him exhausted and invigorated, but lacking in a way that aggravated him.

 

One thing the games offered Souji was the anticipation of high-intensity exercise and regular competition. When he’d been in the TV world, and particularly when he’d used his Personas, his body buzzed with an indescribable euphoria. Colours and sounds became almost painfully clear, tactile sensations were cranked to the maximum setting, and he felt like he was walking on clouds. Toyama’s games were approaching that intensity; tangible, teetering, like a switch that was half-thrown and needed one last kick to complete the circuit. Souji could feel it, on the edge of setting off, but no matter how fast he ran or how close the score came, the switch stayed where it was. To one part of him, it was a relief. After all, it was far more than he’d felt before going to Inaba, so why be greedy? But to the other part, it was frustrating. His body and mind were braced for the sensations, pulled at them and left him feeling tense and on edge, like a sprinter waiting for the signal when the gun had jammed. He felt unsatisfied at the end of each game, no matter the outcome. Though he hated the comparison, it reminded him of his parents and their comments, between business meetings and phone calls, that as good as his marks were, they could always be better: the feeling that he had failed by 5% instead of succeeding by 95% dogged his tracks and dulled the joy the games used to carry.

 

The greatest reprieve from both the games and his parents, the cool mist to the fiery adrenaline and burning competition and dry half-life of home, was his regular calls to Yukiko. She’d returned to Inaba and spared no expense of time to regale him with her stories. Truth told, he didn’t catch it all; just the sound of her voice, hearing her so animated and alive, was enough to put him into a peaceful languor that stilled the world around him and left him ready to face it after the _end call_ button was pushed. The only drawback was how often he had to charge his cell phone and struggling to stay awake in class when their talks continued into the early hours of the morning, but he always felt it a fair trade. As the end of the month approached, their calls became less frequent despite the rising anticipation, and she would often pass on messages from the others. It felt like it was all coming together; now he had to wait.

 

\--

 

It was a Saturday when it happened. Less than a week before he planned to leave.

 

The game was intense for only being half over. 5 on 5, Toyama and Souji on opposite sides, neck and neck like usual. Souji ran up the side, jockeying for a shooting position and watching the ball, when one of the other team members pivoted in front of him, freezing in shock at the imminent collision. Souji tried to twist out of the way, to backpedal and push sideways at the same time. Neither worked. He tripped over a leg and went down. His gloves spared his palms, though not his fingers or wrists, and his right leg and knee scraped on the asphalt, burning up his spine.

 

The switch flipped.

 

Whether it was the pain itself or the unexpectedness was drowned out as the volume amplified and the colours cut into his brain. The white of the backboard, the greens of the trees, the red basketball and the blue – the wide, deep blue that threatened to suck him up – of the sky sent his world into a tailspin. His heart thudded up his neck to his ears, the heat rising in his veins, and every hair and muscle fibre felt like it was expanding, pushing past the limits of his body. When he came back, he noticed a tremble to his hands that had nothing to do with the pain in his leg. The student he’d crashed into was sputtering apologies and asking if he was alright.

 

Was he alright? No, he thought through colour and clouds, he was miles beyond alright. That damnable lever had been kicked into place and was stuck on ‘high’. And there was no way he’d miss this chance.

 

Brushing the student off with a ready grin, Souji rotated his ankle and put his weight on the scraped leg. The burning was there, twisting and tightening and holding the switch in place, and it melded with the euphoria. He caught the ball as it came to him. Free throw. He took to the three-point line, barely took the time to line up, and sunk it. The game was back on, and his feet pounded the ground with the same cadence as his heart. It was clear Toyama expected him to hobble or limp, but when Souji ran an interception down court, faster and smoother than ever before, the team captain gave a loud laugh and wild smile. “ _Now_ we’ve got a game going!”

 

Toyama’s team put their all into the remaining ten minutes, but Souji was on cloud nine. He moved quicker, reacted faster, knew where the others were without looking, and seemed to be everywhere on the court. Sprinting up the side. Charging the middle. Passing back and running interception. He moved as part of the team, part of a river current and always knowing where to go.

 

The rest of the game passed in a flash of tensing muscle and tightening airways. Takenaka announced Souji’s team the winners, and she neglected to mention exactly what the score was. The others groaned hoarsely at the breakneck pace the team leaders had set and Toyama approached with a spare towel and water bottle. Souji’s lungs burned, but not as much as he expected. The same as his chest and legs. Despite the hyper-awareness, his fatigue was a distant ache. He felt like he could do it all over again after running for miles. And part of his brain wanted it, demanded it. It thrummed through his veins with a heady insistence: _More_.

 

“Now I really regret not pushing you for the team,” Toyama told him, handing the towel and water over. “I’ve never seen anyone move like that before. That always happen after you spill blood?”

 

Souji felt the euphoria slowly fade and evened out his breathing, trying to get his pulse under control. “Hasn’t happened in a while. Never on the court, if that’s any consolation.”

 

Toyama quirked a frown, than grinned with a bemused shake of his head. “I guess it’ll do. I mean, it’s gonna kill team morale if you become a speed demon every time someone bumps into you.”

 

“I’ll try to keep it under control next time.”

 

Toyama brushed the comment aside. “Hey, don’t bother. Honestly, you look like you need to let go sometimes. If you hitting high gear on the court is what it takes, then at least it’s during practice.”

 

Souji took a swig of water, but nearly choked on it when something struck his mind. “You know what it’s like?”

 

“Like you could pull a freight train or power a cargo ship with a bike generator?” Souji nodded. “It’s happened, yeah. Not as often as I want, but it’s there.”

 

“Do you ever feel like it’s about to... go off, but can’t? Like a trigger of some kind?”

 

Toyama looked at him square-on, minus his usual grin. “Not really, no. It’s either on or it isn’t for me. Is that what’s been bugging you the last few games?”

 

“Huh. I’m that obvious?”

 

“Not really. I never thought something was wrong; just that it was less right.”

 

“It used to-“ Souji bit his tongue. It felt like talking around a hippopotamus, not mentioning details about Inaba to anyone. “That is, before I moved here, from the end of March to the previous April, it was pretty regular. Easy to turn on, turn off, whatever. No problem. Since then it’s felt like I was right on the edge, but couldn’t get it.”

 

“Huh. Like sex?”

 

Souji’s slow descent to a normal heart rate rocketed up, and he sputtered in surprise. “What? Well, I guess that’s a good- but- wait, where did that come from?!”

 

Toyama shrugged with a smirk that reminded Souji far too much of Takenaka. “Like sex. On the edge, almost going over, but hitting a wall and not-“

 

“Okay, I get it.”

 

“Obviously not. I mean, if you need pain to go over the edge, then you’re not getting-“

 

“Toyama-kun,” Souji growled, “do not finished that sentence.”

 

“If it’s a problem for you, I know some girls who could help you with it.”

 

“Not necessary.” Souji felt the heat dropping from his cheeks to his neck, and it had nothing to do with his adrenaline rush.

 

“No, you’re right. There’re lots of girls at school who’d gladly lend a hand in-“

 

“I told you, don’t-“

 

“I mean, you’re popular enough as it is, and there’s no shame in asking for help in that area.”

 

“Toyama-kun.”

 

“Depending on how well both parties perform, you might become even more popular in-“

 

“Toyama!”

 

“Yes?”

 

“ Shut. Up. Now.”

 

The captain’s face nearly broke from the smirk. “Just trying to help.”

 

At that moment, as if summoned by Souji’s desires for an escape and a chance to strangle his fellow student, Takenaka appeared at Toyama’s side. “Yoshi-kun, what are you two talking about?”

 

The guys shared a long look, which was to say Toyama smirked and Souji glared. The unfamiliar expression pulled at his face, and added to his blooming headache. “Biology and chemistry. It seems Seta-kun is quite the science whiz, and we got to talking about chemical release properties, and how-“ Toyama smirked dangerously “-messy they can be if done improperly.”

 

Souji seethed, but Takenaka looked between them, an eyebrow cocked. “Really? Seta-kun looks pretty red.”

 

“Science can be very _stimulating_ , Megumi-chan.”

 

Souji spun toward the bench with a growl. “I’m leaving.”

 

“So soon?”

 

“Yes.” Souji glared and smiled dangerously over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to break your back by beating you too many times. Once is enough for me today.” He’d hoped to wipe the smirk off Toyama’s face, and he did; laughter rang over the court again and followed Souji to the sidewalk. Occupied with his thoughts as he was, he nearly parted company with his skin when Takenaka tapped him on the shoulder.

 

“Sorry. I have some shopping to do, and wanted to know if you’d accompany me.”

 

Souji thought over the implications of being seen with the basketball captain’s girlfriend, but shrugged it off. He’d been seen shopping with Yukiko and Ebihara often enough, and it would be good payback at Toyama. Cheap and childish, to be sure, but Souji wasn’t above that on occasion. Nodding and following her lead, he fell into step beside Takenaka.

 

They made their way past his apartment and into the shopping centres. Souji was glad the euphoria on the court had faded earlier, or the noise and flashing lights would have put him in a seizure. While Takenaka shopped, he cleaned up his leg and bought a box of takoyaki, offering her some when she came out. As she chewed on the snack, her eyes turned pensive.

 

“Not everyone’s happy with your part on the team, you know.”

 

Souji stopped chewing, processing her words and choosing his own carefully. “Is that so?”

 

“There are some on the team who think you’re trying to work your way into Yoshi-kun’s good graces, and those of the head coach by extension.”

 

“I don’t want to be on the team. Sign-ups and selections close in a few weeks, so it should be obvious by then.”

 

“Not to those who see you as a threat now. You’re thinking logically. Those feeling threatened or jealous won’t repay the courtesy. Especially after you single-handedly won the game today.”

 

Souji shrugged, brushing the idea off. “It wasn’t that big a deal. I just got into the game, that’s all.”

 

“You misunderstand. You didn’t just have a run of good luck. You trounced their captain, the best player on the team, and some people who’ve lived for the sport for as long as they’ve been able to walk. They have a lot riding on their performance on the court, and you come out of nowhere to show them up. You can’t walk away from that, and they might not let the matter drop.”

 

“In that case, where does Toyama-kun fit in all this? How personally does he take basketball?”

 

“Not that personally. It’d be different if you were a stuck-up braggart like the others, but he likes you. He likes the challenge, and he lives for the chance to improve, among other things.” Takenaka stretched her arms above her head, her chest pulling upward, and Souji briefly wondered what, or who, else Toyama lived for.

 

“He’s going for a sports scholarship, I presume?”

 

“That’s right. And he’s not the only one. So even if you don’t have a repeat of today, there’re people on the team who want those opportunities, and don’t like feeling threatened.”

 

“I see. Do you know who they are?”

 

“No. I don’t have names, but I have heard whispers. They’re not the only ones, and they aren’t the first, but they are the closest to you, considering.”

 

“And why are you telling me this? So Toyama-kun won’t lose a basketball buddy?”

 

“There’s that, but also so he won’t lose a prospective friend.” At Souji’s cocked eyebrow, she chuckled. “He hasn’t come out and said it, and he probably won’t, but he looks up to you. I think he sees you as a kindred spirit sometimes, or as part of the family. He’s the oldest of four, after all.” She picked another takoyaki ball from the box and popped it in her mouth. “As for me, I meant what I said before. There’s more to you than meets the eye. You haven’t tried to make a move on me, and you’ve had your share of chances.” Souji bit his tongue, stopping the words ‘I have a girlfriend’ in their tracks. He didn’t need a repeat of his earlier conversation, especially not with a girl as crafty as Takenaka Megumi. “You also keep to yourself at school, and I know there’re girls who’ve made passes at you. But you treat everyone the same, so far anyway, and that’s rare. So I guess you’re interesting, Seta-kun. And I thought you should know.”

 

“Thanks for the advice.”

 

“No problem; it’s free.”

 

“Since you’re in the know, do you have any suggestions?”

 

“Not really. If it’s just rumours like usual, then you can do what you’ve been doing or find out who’s behind them. What you do from there is up to you.”

 

“But you don’t think it’s just more rumours, do you?”

 

“Exactly. But until you know who is doing it, there isn’t much you can do. Unless you want to play detective and dig around yourself.”

 

Souji finished the box off and tossed it into the nearby garbage can. “Play it by ear, huh?”

 

“That would be smartest, for what it’s worth.”

 

“Thanks again, Takenaka-san.” Souji glanced at her with a half-smile. “You know, you’re not so bad. Not what I expected when I met you either.”

 

“Lay on the charm, Seta-kun,” she chuckled. “What graciousness that I should be ‘not so bad.’”

 

“Would you prefer ‘tough girl with a heart of gold’?”

 

Takenaka looked at him archly. “That’s pretty thick, but I am used to people looking at my heart.” She took a deep breath to emphasize her point. Souji laughed. “Since we’re being honest, will you be around next weekend? Yoshi-kun was invited to a party on Saturday, and I’m sure he’ll invite you when he thinks about it. Not to mention that he’s probably thinking of ways to get even with you for today.”

 

Souji shook his head. “Would that I could, but I’m going out of town. Visiting friends and relatives out west.”

 

“For the whole weekend?”

 

“That’s the plan.”

 

“Hm. Whereabouts?”

 

Souji thought about that for a moment. Inaba was hard enough to find on a transit map, so he doubted his classmates were familiar with it. “It’s near Okina City. Rural place.”

 

“Huh. Not sure where that is.”

 

“About five hours away by train.”

 

“I see. Good friends?”

 

Souji quirked another half-smile. “The best.”

 

Takenaka’s cell phone beeped insistently at her, which prompted her to stand when she saw the message on it. “That one’s for me. I’ll see you later, Seta-kun.”

 

“Until next time, Takenaka-san.”

 

The trip home was uneventful, though Souji’s mind was occupied for every paving stone along the way. His time on the court left him feeling lighter than he had since he’d left Inaba, both in the exhilaration and the reassurance that he could still go that far. Takenaka’s weekend offer and Toyama’s ready friendship were unexpected and pleasant surprises. He hadn’t expected to form connections with others so quickly, even after the bonds he’d forged among the investigation team. However unexpected they were though, they weren’t unwelcome, and Takenaka’s saucy bluntness and Toyama’s bravado made him feel more welcome than any class or homeroom teacher ever had.

 

“I’m home,” Souji called out of habit as he entered the apartment.

 

“Ah, Souji. Good timing,” his father called from the living area. “We were just discussing the plans for next week.”

 

“Plans?”

 

“This Friday. Nakamura and Ishikawa will be joining us for a business dinner. Families are in attendance, and so we will be there as well.”

 

“I see. Well, I’m sure you and mother will enjoy yourselves.”

 

Yuuma looked bemused for a moment, then quirked an eyebrow. “Families are in attendance Souji, which means you’re coming too.”

 

Souji froze mid-step. The breath seized in his chest and he almost stumbled from spinning around so fast. “What?”

 

“This Friday. The three of us. Business dinner. Party of about thirty-five people.”

 

“I’m not- I can’t go. I’ll be in Inaba this weekend.”

 

“Inaba? Why?”

 

“I told you, and mother, I’m going on Thursday morning. It’s been on the calendar for weeks.”

 

“Plans change. And have any of them come here yet?”

 

Souji choked down his retort, that he’d had numerous offers and questions about visits, and deflected them all. Kou and Daisuke had inquired about it, Yosuke made the suggestion once, and all the while the past events of having anyone close meet his parents rang in his ears. The last thing he wanted was to introduce anything related to Inaba to his parents. His anger, usually stilled and calm, climbed like mercury in a thermometer during a heat wave. “I’ve been planning this trip since I left, father. When were your business arrangements made?”

 

“They were finalized last night.”

 

“I’ll call in sick then. You can go without me”

 

“Souji,” Yuuma’s voice grew cold, firm, and lost none of its dispassionate edge. “This is not a vote, or a committee decision. Your time off school would be spent more productively here than playing with relatives in Inaba. We are expected to make a good showing, and so you _will_ be with us. Am I in any way unclear?”

 

He refused to back down, drawing himself up. “No. Now let me be clear. How often do I ever ask you for favours? When was the last time I asked for anything from you or mother besides grocery money?”

 

“The meaningless argument aside, what does it matter?”

 

“I don’t ask for much. Hell, I don’t ask for anything from you. And for that, you can’t get me out of an all-night meeting with your partners?”

 

“There’s no sense in you not being there. You won’t lose anything by staying here.”

 

“What about keeping to my schedule and upholding my arrangements with friends and contacts? Or is that selective as well?”

 

“Mind your tone Souji. I won’t say it again.”

 

“Father, this trip is important to me. Your last-minute business partners aren’t my priority. This isn’t fair.”

 

“I don’t need to be. The arrangements have been made, and I won’t have you disgrace us by acting like a child. Your mother’s brother will cope with the change, as will any friends you still have there. They’ve probably forgotten you by now anyway. But you _will_ be with us Friday evening, Souji. Understand?”

 

A lifetime of vitriol boiled up his throat like bile. Every missed birthday, every excuse, every time work trumped his life and he was expected to understand burned in his mind’s eye. Words that had stewed in solitude for years hammered at his clenched teeth, demanding release as the two glared fiercely across barely three feet of dead air. He wanted to say it; how they couldn’t expect him to act like their offspring when they didn’t act like parents, how his accomplishments had nothing to do with them, how there was no way they’d understand the bonds he shared with his friends, and how utterly pitiful he thought the charade of their life was. _Choose your fights_ , his experiences told him. It was the same voice that kept him alive in the TV world for so long, and the observations had been sharpened until it was almost never wrong. _Fighting head-on without an advantage is foolish. Bide your time._

 

It was hard. No, the struggle was herculean. Holding back waves of memories and anger left him trembling in effort, and he felt his control barely hold together like strained yarn on his fingertips.

 

But it wasn’t the first time. It was short-term, and it wouldn’t last. None of the other times did either. He would endure, he would manage, and then he would run to the college closest to Inaba when he graduated. So, once he could trust his furious tongue, he struck his heels together and bowed sharply.

 

“As you wish, _Father._ ”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Souji fancied himself an intelligent person. He’d striven, all his life, for achievement and success in whatever he encountered. Sports, music, cooking, and especially academics. He’d met people who’d tested him in life, and he lived for the competition. Kou had challenged his limits on the basketball court, and he’d explored cooking on his own, doing it as much for as for necessity. Yukiko had been his neck-and-neck rival in Yasogami academia, and his parents had pushed him to expand on his knowledge of languages and economics for as long as he could remember.

 

But for all his education, he couldn’t think of one word that described how he felt right now.

 

Angry, seething, or downright pissed were trite, and didn’t come close. Furious and enraged were better, but brought to mind images of furniture thrown out of windows and torched cars. And he hadn’t gone that far.

 

No, even two days later, Souji still couldn’t name the feeling, the violent fury that hammered in his veins when his mind’s eye looked at the tatters that were his holiday plans. He was never one to hold grudges. He’d found it easier to either meet the matter head-on and live with the consequences or brush the matter aside and keep going. He’d spent his childhood in the company of broken promises, and he’d have died of an ulcer by now if he’d held on to his parents’ word and anything they said or did. In the end his stress management tactics involved music, either making or listening, distance and time from the problem, quiet focus on his school work, or something athletic and incredibly sweaty.

 

Those tactics weren’t working. He’d paced his room, swearing in as many languages as he could (Japanese, Korean, English, and some Spanish and Mandarin for good measure), for hours before sending out the text messages. The sheer number of recipients meant he’d sent the message in four clusters. The memory of why he was sending them came back with the _tap_ and _click_ of every key, and he’d stopped halfway, contemplating images of his fists meeting the wall before snapping the phone shut. Then those he had contacted sent their replies, and they read much as he’d expected. Dojima, Yosuke, Kanji, Chie, and Kou had fingers on the pulse of that message, and by the time he’d gotten through them, the fury was deafening, blinding, and he had to get out of the house. Staggering and barely remembering his keys, he got through the door before the seductively violent compulsions overpowered him. He was halfway to the basketball court when he got Yukiko’s reply. He couldn’t open it. He knew she would be curious and probably understanding, and he knew, in his state, what he’d say. She deserved better than to be a soundboard for his ravings, no matter how good it might feel afterward.

 

And it had bled into his life for days. The anger smeared the walls of his classes, drowned the calls from Inaba, choked off his usual banter at school, and drenched Toyama and the basketball games in furious, oily red. He’d been too angry the first day to be of any use on the court, and took the bench after ten minutes. He tried focusing and offering helpful advice, but those damned words kept echoing in his head. And the anger was always there. Bottled up and waiting to go off. He knew it had to end, and thought of a way, any way, to choke it back for good.

 

Finally, resigned to the dinner meeting, unwilling to read all the replies on his cell, and unable to even look at his parents without contemplating murder, he snapped the phone open and made a call. One ring. Two. Three. Fo-

 

“Shirogane residence.”

 

“Yakushiji-san? It’s Seta-kun, Dojima-san’s nephew.”

 

“Ah yes, Seta-kun. How have you been?”

 

“I… that’s a long story, and I won’t bore you with it. Is Naoto-kun in?”

 

“She is. One moment.”

 

The line went quiet, but, sooner than he expected, the voice of a partner in crime rang in his ear. “Senpai?”

 

“Hey Naoto-kun.”

 

“Yosuke-senpai and I have been calling since we received the message. What’s happened? Why the sudden change in plans?”

 

“That’s why I’m calling. I need help.”

 

“Doing what? You said just last week that you had the tickets paid for-“

 

“That’s why I need help. My parents-“ how the acid in his voice didn’t melt his phone and gloves, he’d never know “-decided to take up my Friday evening with a business meeting without telling me in advance. They also didn’t tell me that families would be present, so my travel plans are scrapped.”

 

“Didn’t they know you had the weekend planned?”

 

Souji grimaced, feeling like he’d bitten a lemon garnished with turpentine. “My mother knew, and my father might have, but my plans don’t count for much here.”

 

“And visiting relatives and friends isn’t reason enough to let you go?”

 

“You don’t know them, Naoto-kun. Business and prestige mean everything to them. My plans are a peripheral concern at best, and this wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

There was a heavy pause on the line, and her voice was weak, brittle. “Is it really _that_ bad, Senpai?”

 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Dojima may be harsh sometimes, but he understands that family’s family. Most of the time. They’re nothing like him; trust me on that.” Souji took a deep breath, reining in the flaring anger. “I’m calling because I don’t plan on taking it lying down. If I have to hitchhike back to Inaba, I will, but everything I can think of ends badly for me when I get back.”

 

“What do you need? How can I help?”

 

“Can you think of any way I can bypass my parents and make it to Inaba without alienating them too much?”

 

“Th- that’s… Senpai, I’ll help you any way I can, but that’s a tall order on such short notice.”

 

“I know. There’s a little time, but I can’t think straight right now.”

 

“Very well. If I’m going to work around them, I’ll need some information.”

 

Souji paused, the turpentine and lemon rising to his mouth again while his rationality and desire to see his friends again warred with a life where his parents held the keys to every door and window. Finally biting back the reluctance, he told her what he knew about his parents. Their business schedules, their accomplishments, favoured work associates and business lunch restaurants, preferred suit types, and how he could set his watch to his mother’s schedule regularity while his father’s presence was an elusive, smoky thing. He could name the various partners and coworkers they’d had, when and where they’d had them, and familial details he’d learned from years of group meetings. Facts, figures, information without context that rattled off his tongue and dried his lips in passing, their emptiness clogging his head with thick apathy like a cold.

 

“Senpai,” Naoto cut in finally, “is there anything non-work-related you can tell me about them?”

 

He thought about it, calling the memories forth. It wasn’t hard. Those paths were well-worn from travel, paved grey walkways and iron gates faded with use, blandly familiar, and utterly unchanged across time. Images and memories, leeched of colour and sound and feeling, rattled with age and neglect. “Nope.”

 

“…Nothing, Senpai?”

 

“They live for their jobs, Naoto-kun. Appointments, structure, and prestige.”

 

“I find that hard to believe. Everyone is deeper than that.”

 

He knew that. He’d seen it firsthand, and the repression of that emotional depth had cracked his ribs more times than he’d had ribs to count. But… “Not them. And there isn’t much time to learn more before the weekend. So, can you help me?”

 

“Give me some time, Senpai.”

 

“Thanks, Naoto-kun. I owe you.”

 

“I require some time for this endeavour, Souji-senpai. Even so, I make no promises.”

 

“I know, but it helps to talk about this once in a while. And the others… I don’t know if I could have told Yosuke all this, you know?”

 

“In a sense, I suppose. I’m not sure I believe all of it though. I love my Grampa more than life itself, and, if you’re an indication, I don’t think your parents are that shallow. But, I’m glad I could help. I’ll be in touch.” She hung up, leaving Souji with a dead tone in his ear. He cut the line and tossed his cell on his desk, stretching and popping his joints, one at a time, before laying back on his futon. He fell into the habit of counting the ridges and spots on the ceiling, letting his mind wander.

 

It could have gone better. He knew bringing his family life into contact with anything from Inaba was going to cause friction. Much as the Investigation Team had their baggage, none of them railed against their families like he did. Parents and grandparents were loved as much as he did Nanako and Dojima, and even Kanji, the proverbial hell raiser, had his mother close at mind in everything he did. He didn’t know how much more he could have told Naoto before she started crediting the words to anger and frustration-fuelled fiction. Still, he hadn’t lied. And that the most stable of the group had difficulty absorbing the sad state of his home life only reinforced his decision to keep it separate from Inaba and all that lay within. Still, the adult in him knew that Yukiko was curious about his family, no matter how well he dodged the issue before, and that any relationship with her was going to involve some long conversations and growing pains. Hell, he hadn’t even met _her_ parents yet, let alone broached the topic of his.

 

His anger took more out of him than he expected; his last thoughts involved Yukiko and his family when he drifted off to sleep.

 

\--

 

Rise’s _Heartbreaker_ rang from his desk, snapping him out of a groggy sleep and reeling him toward his phone. His prized reflexes were sluggish and clumsy, so much so that he missed his footing twice in a distance of 12 feet. Catching his phone on the fourth ring, he muttered groggily, “Hello, this is Seta.”

 

“Senpai. It’s Naoto.”

 

Souji glanced blearily at his clock, then blinked in surprise. He’d been asleep for hours, and rather than perking him up, it had left sandpaper on his eyelids and motor oil in his veins. “Thanks for calling back. So, any ideas?”

 

“Are you well? You sound terrible.”

 

“Then I sound how I feel. Dunno why though; you woke me up.”

 

“My apologies.”

 

“No worries. I’ll take another nap after I’m done here.” He yawned heavily, feeling his jaw crack and creak with the effort.

 

“I see. Well, I have an idea that bears some merit, but it relies on your acting abilities in the presence of your parents.”

 

That woke him up. Well, it only left him a bit less groggy, but she had his attention. “Go on.”

 

“You mentioned that it’s your father’s affair you’ll be attending. How long will it go on for?”

 

“Late evening, early morning sometimes.”

 

“And afterwards?”

 

“I don’t follow.”

 

“Is your attendance required after the affair?”

 

“Not usually, but I doubt he’ll let me go without a good reason this time. Seems I pissed him off.”

 

“Then your skills as a thespian are all the more important.”

 

“Tell me what you’ve got in mind, Naoto-kun.”

 

“Your father strikes me as a professional financier, so business opportunities are never far from his mind. He also expects order and structure, or at least the appearance of such, with you. What if he were convinced he could have both?”

 

Souji mulled it over, or as much as he could through several yawns. “It’d make his day, I imagine.”

 

“And you could be in Inaba early the following morning. Have you checked the train schedules?”

 

“Not recently, no. Tell me more about this idea.”

 

“You will tell him that, in the interest of learning the trade of connections and partnerships, you need to come to Inaba to better establish a rapport with the local business owners.”

 

“What businesses? We have a Junes here, you know.”

 

“Yes, but not a Tatsumi Textiles, or the Amagi Inn. Those are unique to Inaba, correct?”

 

That hit home. Damned if she didn’t have a point. “Well... that makes sense, especially to go in person. But those are too small. He’ll expect something bigger, more permanent.”

 

“From himself or a partner, certainly. But maybe not his son. You will convince him of your interest in learning his trade, and to do so, you need to start with smaller entities, those you already have a connection with. I imagine he’ll see it as a long-term investment, and evidence of his son following in the family business. Like giving a small allowance for trading stocks, to see how you do. You keep in his good graces, and you will probably have a free pass to Inaba whenever you wish.”

 

“He’ll get suspicious. A few days ago I was ready to kill him. Now I’m turning it around and buttering him up, saying I was wrong?”

 

“Hence the acting skills, Senpai.”

 

“I don’t know, Naoto-kun. It seems too easy.”

 

“It needn’t be difficult. Often the best plans are the most straightforward, or at least have many such steps in them. And your father isn’t a mind-reader, so while he may be sceptical, he probably won’t refuse you on principle. Especially if you bring back proof of your contacts and business meetings.”

 

Souji snorted. “Now I feel cheap, using my friends’ families as a finance experiment.”

 

“You might have need of them in the future. Regardless, that is the plan. I will investigate the night train schedules while you put it all in action.”

 

“Wait, you expect me to do this now?”

 

“He’ll expect resistance closer to the date. Now would be the best time.”

 

“I’m still not sold on this. It really seems too simple to work.”

 

“There’s only one way to know, Senpai. I wish you luck.” And she hung up.

 

Souji stared at the phone for a long while before snapping it closed and tossing it back on his desk. Try to pull one by his father? It made sense to try, but he had no idea how to do it. He and his father didn’t talk. Ever. They didn’t discuss, converse, gossip, chat, or bullshit. He’d never sat down and talked to the man about anything besides work. Not about school, teachers, girls, or shaving. The only time they did talk about anything, much as he could trust his groggy memory right now, was on how to tie and wear a tie, and what types went best with which suits.

 

_Stop making excuses_ , the back of his mind snapped. _Naoto’s plan is the best chance you have, so just man up and do it._

 

He had to wonder when his rationality started sounding like Kanji...

 

He checked the clock again. 8:51PM. Straightening his back and shaking the sand out of his head, he left his room and went to his parents’ office, trying not to let the nervous tingle in his hands show. His father was on the phone, but paused momentarily at his son’s entrance. Souji leaned against the wall and glanced around the room, not establishing eye contact until he absolutely needed to.

 

“I’ll get back to you, Ishikawa. We’ll be in touch.” Yuuma set the receiver down and steepled his fingers. “Did you need something, Souji?”

 

_Here we go_. He took a deep breath and focused on keeping his voice steady. “I was out of line earlier. Regarding the dinner meeting. I wasn’t happy about the change in plans, and I’m still not, but I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

 

The senior Seta blinked twice, then leaned back in his chair. “Indeed you shouldn’t have, Souji. Regardless of your opinion of these event, they are to your benefit. And I won’t have you acting like a child in my own house.”

 

The tone was what Souji expected his father sounded like at the office, though more condescending. His retorts scraped and clawed at his throat, fighting to get out. He choked them down and hoped the effort didn’t show. “Of course, father. I apologize.”

 

“Furthermore, I expect your best behaviour Friday night. I won’t tolerate you humiliating us in front of others. Your planned excursion to Inaba isn’t worth that; nothing is.”

 

“Yes father. Again, I apologize.”

 

“Hmph. Accepted. Was that all?”

 

“While we’re here, I thought I should clarify something. One of my reasons for going to Inaba was to meet some business owners. It’s for this finance portfolio idea I’ve been thinking of lately.”

 

Yuuma looked interested - which was to say that one eyebrow arched a sixteenth of an inch higher than the other. “Go on.”

 

“Some of the friends I made in Inaba are connected to some of the more profitable and successful local businesses. I know it’s not much, but I thought it’d be a good place to start if I’m going to get into finance and economics someday.”

 

A long pause. Yuuma’s gaze became a cutting stare, and Souji fought to keep still. _Come on. All the Shadows you’ve fought, chasing a murderer into the TV, and even beating back Izanami. This is nothing. Focus, dammit._ “Why now? You’ve never shown an interest in finances before.”

 

“Well, I learned a lot while I was there, father. And I can’t keep going to school forever. Besides, I have two good examples to follow right here at home.”

 

Yuuma’s stare didn’t subside, and Souji wondered for a moment if he’d laid it on too thick. The man was used to being flattered by professionals, after all. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

 

“I probably should have, but I’ve been getting to know some of the people at school the last little while. And you got home only recently, so...”

 

“And these people are the reason for those arm bands you’re wearing?”

 

The question caught him flat-footed, leaving him stunned. It shouldn’t have. He’d expected queries about the gloves and wraps, but not here and not now. “Uh, w-well, yeah.”

 

“That’s not very convincing, Souji.”

 

“I wasn’t expecting the question, father.”

 

“Hm. And do they mean anything?”

 

“Not really, no. It’s just... it’s ‘in’ now, that’s all.”

 

“You’ve never shown an interest in fashion before.”

 

Souji immediately keyed into the opportunity. “Well, one of my friends in Inaba lives in a textile shop. I learned a few things from him, and he’s someone I planned on talking to for this project.”

 

“Textiles? A male child in textiles?”

 

“Yes. Their work’s pretty impressive.”

 

“And how long have they been in business? It’s a waste of your time if they lack a solid reputation.”

 

“He didn’t say, but his parents learned from their parents, and it’s been in the same town the whole time, so...”

 

“I see.”

 

Probably not, but Souji wasn’t about to jinx his luck. In fact, he couldn’t resist stacking the deck a little more. “They do a lot of business for a local _ryokan_ , the other business I wanted to contact.”

 

Now he looked interested. “Really?”

 

“Complete with hot springs and everything.”

 

“Hm. So why tell me all this now?” Souji kept silent for a moment. “Come now, Souji, you haven’t told me all this for my benefit, have you?”

 

Steadying himself for the last act in the little drama, he put on a half-smile. “I felt the best way to work on this portfolio would be in Inaba, and that I could take a train there after the meeting on Friday.”

 

Another long pause. “For how long?”

 

“I’m not sure yet. Monday, maybe longer.”

 

“I’ll want to see this portfolio of yours when you get back. If you’re going to get into finance, you need to do it right.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“It’s a challenge, Souji, to make it as far as your mother and I have.”

 

Yuuma Seta wasn’t the only astute male in the room. Souji knew he wasn’t only speaking in the past tense. He couldn’t help but feel like he was signing a deal in blood with the devil himself, but the picture of the group flashed in his mind, and he knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t, do anything else. “I understand, father.”

 

“Good. Let us know when you expect to leave. The meeting should be done by 1:30 at the latest.”

 

“Thank you, father.” Yuuma turned to the phone, clearly considering the matter closed, and Souji returned to his room as calmly as he could. It was only then that he saw the distinct shake in his hands.

 

Had that happened? He’d had a conversation with his father that didn’t end in a phone ringing or a shouting match, he’d been able to stomach the talk of finance and business and use it to his advantage, and he’d changed his father’s mind about the trip to Inaba, albeit still delayed. It was strange new territory. It was something normal families probably did regularly. It was utterly alien, and it was too much for one night. He flipped his phone open and caught a text message from Naoto.

 

_Kofu prefectural train station to Inaba, 2:05AM Saturday morning. Is this satisfactory?_

_~Naoto_

Souji blinked at the message for a while before sending one of his own.

 

_How did you know the plan succeeded?_

 

There was a short pause before the cell chirped in response.

 

_I have the utmost faith in you, Senpai. Handling a parent, no matter how difficult, hardly seems like the most challenging thing you’ve done._

_And you had faith in your own plan, no doubt._

_Naturally._ Souji could picture Naoto’s smirk, as though he were daft for ever doubting her.

 

_The timing works fine._

 

_Then I’ll contact the others._

_Don’t bother. I’ll do it. They should hear it from me._

_As you wish, Senpai. Until then._

It took a while, sending out the good news to everyone along with a half-vague explanation of what the problem had been, but it lacked anger this time. He sent a more in-depth message to Dojima, Yosuke and Yukiko, making plans for lodging, and finally crawled over to his futon and fell asleep.

 

\--

 

If there was anything his pre-Inaba life had taught him, it was the value of information and focus. The Inaba murders had emphasized those values, especially in that order. It was why Souji Seta had passed up the chance at venting and sweating on the court earlier that afternoon, why his exercise for the day involved stretches and recitations of names, companies, and economic figures, and why he was twirling four pens through the fingers of each hand: he was preparing with an intensity that wouldn’t have been out of place on a rainy Inaba night. Much as he disliked the business meetings, no matter how good the food was, much as he disliked the people, no matter how well-dressed, he’d given his word that he’d attend. And Souji Seta didn’t do things half-assed. So he’d play his part, the role of the attentive and intelligent son of a corporate guru, he’d mouth the pleasantries and show his knowledge of the marketplace, and all the while he’d be counting down the minutes until his train left.

 

His parents thought it meant acceptance of his place in the family and dedication to following their examples. Since they never asked him about it, he never bothered to correct them. Why let the truth of a matter tear a perfect veil of assumptions?

 

The thoughts and facts became the gears of a well-oiled engine: clicking and shifting in synchrony, smooth and unhurried, shifting up and down on command. Clean and exact.

 

His wardrobe matched his mindset. Calculation. Precision. No wasted motion or uncontrolled expression. Pressed white shirt and black slacks, leather belt, polished shoes and watch, cleaned jacket and tie, and new, full-fingered gloves. Each article went on like battle armour, girding mind and body alike for the challenges ahead. In the TV he’d used his swords and Personas. Now he had his wits and information. In the same way, the arena awaited.

 

His mother called, telling him the ride was ready. Squaring his shoulders and hefting his bags, he followed them to the cab, nodding politely when she commented on his appearance, and kept the cabbie company as his parents went over their own preparations.

 

The building was a literal trip down memory lane. Much like his house, it could have been any one of the dozens he’d seen in his childhood. The same servants at the doors, the same business associates in the lobby to greet them, no matter their names, the same wives or partners or escorts with the same smattering of progeny expected to take on the family business. The lights and scent were the same, the same style of doorframes, and even the wallpaper of the expansive room and grain of the wood in the tables wasn’t new. It was surprising how comforting the familiarity was now, like laying face-up in a stream and going with the current. He made his bows and gave his greetings, and it wasn’t long before they were at the tables. The etiquette, the food, the small talk before business, all the same.

 

“Seta-kun. Your father tells me you’re following in the family footsteps.”

 

Maybe not entirely the same.

 

“That’s correct, Ishikawa-san. I’m conducting a business experiment in Inaba actually, and will be going there tomorrow.”

 

“Inaba?”

 

“Yes. I spent the last year there and made some valuable contacts.” The words rotted in his mouth, but it never showed in his voice or expression.

 

Ishikawa turned to his father. “Very impressive, Seta-san. Your son shows remarkable foresight. Would that we all had such diligent successors.” Then he looked back at Souji. “I trust these contacts will prove lucrative in the future?”

 

“Of course, Ishikawa-san. I wouldn’t invest in them otherwise.” He was proud that he hadn’t choked on the words. The conversation shifted, and Souji maintained the chatter with the women and other young adults while imagining Kanji’s desk or Chie’s boot getting intimately acquainted with the older man. The thought of Chie landing a critical hit, or Rokuten Maoh turning Ishikawa’s precious car, a marvel of Japanese engineering that was more expensive and delicate than a nuclear power plant, into a Rubix cube, kept his smile genuine for the rest of the night.

 

He’d expected the time to drag by, but his regular contributions kept his mind busy. He discussed the finer points of foreign capital investment with Ishikawa on his father’s behalf, chatted with his mother about competitive property interest rates, and in general showed off his business acumen and academic prowess for “the sake of the family”, all the while dodging the expected pitfalls in the conversations. Every time someone mentioned a “closer working relationship” between the families, his ears perked up like radio antennae, especially if the speaker had any daughters. More than once he’d had to dodge the prospect of a business-inspired arranged marriage. And he’d made a distinct point of saying “I’ll get back to you on that” when he was asked to sign anything.

 

Finally the crowds diminished, many taking cabs or leaning on servants to drive them, inebriated and bloated with self-importance, home. Souji called a cab just before saying his farewells to his parents, nodding through the reminders of the business portfolio, and had just changed jackets when a horn blared from outside. Time to go.

 

Souji shouldered through the crowd to the cab, tossing his bags in the back and slipping into the front seat. He nodded jerkily at the driver before giving him the destination and promising him a tip if he got there on time. Evidently the driver wanted the money, because the next sound to be heard was screaming tires and a roaring engine. Even with the seatbelt on, Souji braced himself against the dashboard to keep steady. He didn’t mind; every block brought him closer to Inaba and further from Kofu. When he did come to a jarring halt, he tossed a handful of bills, probably double the fare, to the driver and was up the steps with his bags faster than he’d ever run for a train before. The tickets were waiting for him at the kiosk and he bolted for the platform, getting to the rails just as his way west arrived. The conductor quirked an eyebrow at his appearance – half-tucked shirt, skewed tie, casual jacket, high-end gloves, and only one shoe laced up – obviously used to people not having that much energy so early – or late – in the day. Still, Souji got on the train, set his bags in the compartments, and rested back into a seat that felt just like the one he’d been in coming back from Inaba. An enormous weight eased off his shoulders, like a block of ice beginning to melt, at the thought of leaving Kofu behind. He could feel the tension oozing out of his pores, sliding down his body into a messy puddle on the floor, and he relished the feeling so much that he was still revelling in it when it pulled him to sleep.

 

\--

 

He’d been here before. The first time was when he’d arrived in Inaba, distant and expecting only drab grey and quiet. Later, he regularly used the platform to hit up Okina City with whichever friend or acquaintance he was with. The last time had been to a chorus of well-wishes and tears and promises, all of which echoed in his ears now. Only that last time did he appreciate the view from the platform, the sprawling town below. The same feeling met him the moment he stepped off the train, grabbing him tightly and not letting go, joyously cranking every sensation to its max setting. The greens and browns of hills and homes almost painful in the early dawn, the birds singing sharp and clear as glass, the scent of loam and chlorophyll hitting him like a punch, and even the grey concrete seemed to pulse with life under his feet.

 

He could have stood there longer and waxed poetic about how clean the air was, how the countryside was better for his soul, or just how gods-damned good it felt to be back. Given the time and tools, he could even try his hand at a sketch of the sunrise and write a few haikus about it. But after an evening of schmoozing with two-faced businessmen and more than five hours on a train, sleeping or not, he needed something more invigorating than country air and licking a light socket combined: caffeine, pure and simple.

 

The nearby vending machines provided two doses of his desired nutrient (he refused to call it an addiction), and he distinctly avoided the telltale blue-and-white buttons. So long as he lived, he’d never again touch another container of TaP, no matter the size or circumstance. His stomach twisted and gurgled like a horse with food poisoning even knowing the dreaded substance was nearby, and he swiftly made his way down to the street, chugging back the first liquid stimulant without taking a breath and already contemplating the second.

 

The walk to the Dojima residence worked with the drinks to wake him up, as did the bright May sunrise. He could have taken Dojima up on the offer for a lift, but he figured his uncle would be busy keeping Nanako busy – there was no doubt in his mind that his cousin was vibrating with enough energy to power their entire block. Besides, he could use the time to pull his thoughts into some semblance of order. People and places, times and faces, they all rebounded around his skull demanding his attention, then fading to smoke and whispers when they had it. The ones that did stick were the names of the investigation team, his school friends, and his family. Finding enough hours in the day for everyone this weekend going to be a challenge, but, then again, he’d made a lifestyle of it less than three months ago.

 

His lodging came into view as he turned the corner, and the trip up to the front door passed in a haze. He fished his keys out of a pocket, all attached to the key chain Yukiko’d given him at Christmas, and picked out the Dojima residence key, a thrill running through him at its familiarity as where he was finally hit home. He slipped the key home, snapped open the lock, and slid the door open, every motion smooth from habit. Then he said the words, meaning them more now than ever and feeling distinctly right when they passed his lips.

 

“I’m home.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 

Souji knew people were looking forward to his return to Inaba. He’d gotten regular texts from all his friends after he’d confirmed his travel plans, and some became more insistent the closer the date came. He also knew how enthusiastic his friends could become when faced with good news, and the part of his brain kick-started by the caffeine was going over possible scenarios and valid responses, preparing contingencies like a tactician planning the defence of the castle walls.

 

For all the work his brain put into its contingencies, it didn’t account for a Nanako-shaped bundle of energy hitting him like a shooting star.

 

A blur of brown and pink and white, accompanied by a “ _Big Broooo!_ ” that should have alerted him in a heartbeat, slammed into his midsection before he could take his shoes off at the door. His now-awake reflexes and the comparative lightness of the projectile kept him on his feet. He chuckled, both at his cousin’s enthusiasm and the resigned _“Nanako…”_ that came from further in the house, followed by a short laugh, before kneeling into a hug with her.

 

“Hey Nanako,” he murmured, returning the embrace despite his awkward footing and the bags on his back.

 

“Welcome back, Big Bro!” She was actually vibrating in his arms, drawing another chuckle from him.

 

“It’s good to be home.” He stood up and separated from Nanako, kicking off his shoes and donning his house slippers before heading into the living room, a familiar face smiling through a skewed shirt collar and three-day stubble. “Uncle Dojima.”

 

“Souji. Welcome back.”

 

“No place like it.”

 

That drew a bark of a laugh from his uncle. “I doubt that. There must be something in the city that Inaba doesn’t have that’s caught your attention.”

 

Souji thought of the busy streets, the flashing lights, the crowded subways and crammed cabs and constant noise no matter where he went. He thought of the new friends he’d been making, the minefield that was his high school curriculum, and the small matter of his large issues with his parents. “Maybe. But Inaba has a lot going for it.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Nanako tugged on his hand, catching the attention of the two males. “Big Bro, are we going to see Yosuke-san and Yukiko-san today?”

 

Dojima chuckled, rising from his chair. “Soon, Nanako. I think he’ll want to drop off his bags first, don’t you?” He looked closely at his nephew, catching the bloodshot eyes and sallow cheeks. “I have to be going soon; I’m covering for someone, just for today. I’ll make some coffee for you.”

 

Souji nodded gratefully, extracted his hand from Nanako, and went up to his room two stairs at a time.

 

His room hadn’t changed. The desk, table, couch, futon, TV, and models were exactly where he’d left them. Even the smell, crisp dry paper and new rain, was just as he remembered. His clothes and books made their way back to their respective places out of habit and he slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower, and then his cell phone rang as he got back to his room, this time ringing the Junes jangle. _Took him long enough._

 

“This is Seta. How’ve you been, Yosuke?”

 

“Dude, you sneak back into town after scaring me like that, saying you can’t make it, and don’t make me your first stop? I’m seriously hurt.”

 

“My parents are like that. And while you weren’t my first stop, how about my second? Are you working?”

 

“Nah, I’m taking the weekend off. What’d you have in mind?”

 

Souji heard the door open and close, and Dojima’s jeep start and pull out of the driveway. “Nanako and I are on our own for the day, so what say we meet at our special headquarters later on?”

 

“You sure? You’re only here for a few days, so we could spend it somewhere else you know.”

 

“We will, later. And Nanako loves it there. So’re you game?”

 

“Sure thing, leader. When should we meet you?”

 

“Give me a few hours. I’ll text you and the others when we’re ready.”

 

“Works for me. See you soon.”

 

“You too.”

 

Souji snapped his phone shut, got changed, and made his way downstairs, where Nanako was already halfway through her coffee and keeping his full mug company at the kitchen table. “Um, Dad had to go to work, and said that he’d try to make it home early tonight.”

 

Souji nodded and sat down beside her, sipping at the steaming brew. _Perfect_. “And you? Did you have any plans?”

 

“Um, nope. Toro-kun and Maiki-chan asked me to come play with them tomorrow though.”

 

“Well then, how about coming with me to Junes? We’ll need something for dinner, and the others will be there too.”

 

“Junes? Yay! Can we go now?”

 

Souji laughed. “Not yet. Yosuke’s going to clear it with the others, and there are some places I want to go first. Then we’ll meet them there. Sound good?” Her delighted laugh was all the answer he needed.

 

The two spent half an hour talking about what he’d missed in his two months in Kofu, and in return Nanako got a filtered version of his life in the big city. He told her about his new school and the new friends on the basketball team, she told him about what his friends had been up to and how the remaining Investigation Team spent time with her. Souji finished his coffee, grabbed his keys, and headed toward the downtown shopping district with Nanako in tow.

 

He was halfway to the Konishi Liquor Store when he stopped mid-step. He thought he’d heard a bark or howl from the trees, but didn’t see any dogs. His quizzical frown only lasted a moment before a knowing smile broke across his face. “Nanako, have you been to the shrine lately?” When she shook her head, he headed up the stone steps as naturally as breathing.

 

The shrine itself hadn’t changed in the intervening time. The altar and prayer _ema_ were where they had been before, the gold _torii_ and offertory box still gleaming in the sun. He and Nanako made their prayers, tossed some change into the box, and sat on the steps, still talking. Her bubbling laughter and boundless energy brought a constant smile to his face, held so long that his cheeks were starting to hurt. He creaked his neck back, stretched in place, and momentarily felt lost in the endless, unbroken blue above him. Nanako’s gasp brought his head down in a snap, but then he smiled for a different reason.

 

Standing on the steps next to Nanako was the fox, tail swaying and head cocked to the side. The same russet fur, same bib, same intelligent eyes. Nanako edged closer to Souji, but he rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay.”

 

“Uh, Big Bro? Do you know her?”

 

“Yep. We met before I left. I just called it ‘the fox’.”

 

“Doesn’t she have a name?”

 

“I’m not sure. I never asked.”

 

Nanako gingerly held out a hand to the shrine animal, trembling lightly. The fox nudged it with its nose, eliciting a startled giggle from the girl and prompting gentle pats on the head and ears after Souji’s murmured warning. “Do you have a name, Kitsune-san?” The fox nudged against her hand more and kept quiet. “Does she live here, Big Bro?”

 

“Seems to. Came and visited me a few times.” And charged for magical leafs that had saved the team more than once in the TV world, but Nanako didn’t need to know that. Instead she continued petting the fox, and it continued to let her. When she reached the fox’s ears, it curled up next to her and laid its head on her lap, giving her all the encouragement she needed. Souji chuckled and kept watching, sitting back against the shrine and stretching his legs.

 

“Yo! Senpai!”

 

Souji’s head jerked around, half pushing himself up, but then eased back and waved in reply. Nanako, perking up at the familiar voice, giggled and did the same, holding still with the fox nearby. Kanji Tatsumi, reformed punk and sewing extraordinaire, walked toward them, cutting a black shroud out of the grass and bark and stones around them,  boots giving an even _click click_ cadence that calmed Souji with its familiarity. “Kanji. How’ve you been?”

 

“I’m hangin’ in there. Thought I heard your voice up here. How’s it goin’ on your end?”

 

“Same as you. Yosuke said we’d meet everyone later, so Nanako and I came to visit the fox.”

 

“Oh yeah. Hey,” he waved to the prostrate canine, no stranger to the odd animal. He got a low bark in reply. “You see any of the others yet?”

 

“Just you. Rise called before I left, gave me a list of things to say to everyone in her place.”

 

“Huh. How’s she doin’?”

 

“Good. Working in and around Tokyo, doing shows, breaking hearts. The usual for Rise.”

 

“Is Rise-chan coming back soon too?” Nanako put in.

 

“I’m sure she will if she can. I don’t know when that’ll be though,” Souji replied. “How goes the sewing business?”

 

“It’s good. Those dolls’re becomin’ a big hit. Nanako-chan’s been a big help too, tellin’ her friends an’ spreadin’ the word an’ all that.”

 

“Really?” Nanako blushed and giggled, still petting the fox, when Souji looked over curiously.

 

“Yeah, it’s been keepin’ me busy.”

 

“Good to hear.”

 

“How’s the big city? Anythin’ like Port Island?”

 

“Bigger, dirtier, and way more people.”

 

“Huh. Any decent clubs, at least?”

 

“You mean like Escapade? Probably. Haven’t looked much though.”

 

“Why not? Ain’t your scene?”

 

“Hard to go to a club without people to go with, y’know? I’ve met a few good people there, don’t misunderstand, but I’m not ready for that yet.”

 

“’Not ready’, huh?”

 

“Is that odd?”

 

“Nah, I guess not. Just that Yosuke-senpai and Chie-senpai talk about how fast you all got together to explore the TV world, back in the earlier ‘glory days’ of the team.”

 

Souji chuckled. “Those were special circumstances. The people I know in Kofu are, in comparison to that, completely normal. No Personas, no Shadows, just school and basketball and girls.”

 

Kanji grunted and leaned back against the railing, looking around the shrine pensively. The minutes passed comfortably and Souji, still wired on caffeine, just soaked in the calm. “Uh, hey Senpai? Could I ask you somethin’?” Kanji was fidgeting, tapping his fingers together and twirling a stick through them. He also made an effort to not meet Souji’s eyes.

 

“You just did.” The joke fell flat as Kanji kept fidgeting. “What’s up?”

 

“Uh, you think we could talk sometime before you leave? Like tomorrow or Sunday?”

 

“Sure. What about?”

 

“Uh... well...” Kanji glanced nervously at Nanako and the fox, then at his watch, and clamped his fingers together... before twitching them again. “It’s kinda...”

 

Souji knew that tone, that look, and he fell into his role instinctively, still comfortable after a two month absence. “I understand. The tables and bench on the hill, Sunday afternoon?”

 

“Uh yeah,” Kanji’s fingers stopped their fidgeting and the tension in his shoulders, which Souji hadn’t noticed earlier, retreated. “Thanks Senpai.”

 

“I haven’t done anything yet,” Souji pointed out.

 

“No but... It’ll be good to have someone to talk to at least, y’know?”

 

Souji was cut off by a text message on his cell. Reading it over, he slipped the phone back in his pocket and turned to Nanako and Kanji. “Yosuke and the others are heading for Junes. Shall we go?”

 

The pair nodded and rose, but not before Nanako patted the fox once more. “Goodbye for now, Kitsune-san. I’ll come play with you later, okay?” The fox cocked its head curiously, glanced at Souji, then nodded once before scampering behind the shrine with a parting howl. “Do you think she understood me?” Nanako asked.

 

Souji gave a wry half-smile. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

 

\--

 

Yosuke, Teddie, Chie, Yukiko, and Naoto were already at a table when they arrived. Nanako scrambled into the chair nearest to Teddie,  Kanji glanced at Naoto before looking sheepishly away and taking a chair near Chie, and Souji was bombarded by the team as soon as they saw him.

 

Yosuke’s open smile, wink, and “hey partner” was followed by Naoto’s warm chuckle and polite nod. Chie walked up to him simply to deck him in the shoulder and offer a hearty “welcome back” while Teddie, enthusiastic as ever and dressed in his regal finery, wildly waved his arms, bubbling “Sensei” at every chance. Then Yukiko stood to face him.

 

Everything around him came to a standstill. The miles and months fell away, and all their phone calls and text messages came to the forefront of his mind. She was in her usual red cardigan, scarf, and barrette, the colour burning into eyes too used to the grey of the city. She waited, hesitant at her chair as though worried, but her eyes were open to him, bright and smiling and conveying every word and whisper they’d ever shared. The world fell away, all concerns and doubts, dim as they were, too far away to reach them. Souji felt himself planted in the ground, unable and unwilling to move and break this perfect moment-

 

-until Teddie, enthusiastically flailing about for Nanako’s benefit, smacked into Yosuke, which provoked a sharp cuff to his shoulder in retaliation. It spurred Nanako to ask something of Chie that was lost in the scuffle, but stained the martial artist’s cheeks red nonetheless. The table erupted in pandemonium as Kanji started to talk hesitantly to Naoto, who was occupied with trying to calm Yosuke down. Teddie, in his efforts to get away from Yosuke, tilted dangerously toward Nanako, but swerved into Chie in last-second damage control. This resulted in Chie going stiff as a plank when she felt where Teddie’s hands landed. The side closest to the enamoured pair exploded in a fury of verbosity and vitriol that put Yosuke’s worst fight to shame. Chie chased, Teddie ran. Yosuke looked dumbfounded at the turn of events, Kanji observed as detached as ever, Nanako laughed joyously, and Naoto tried to tell the girl, between hidden bursts of mirth, that it wasn’t funny.

 

Souji and Yukiko jerked, the moment broken, and she giggled at the sight of their friends. Souji’s face broke in a smile and he shook his head. “It figures.”

 

“You came back for all this?” she asked, stepping closer and watching them, much as the other occupied tables were.

 

Souji shook his head, though she couldn’t see it, and moved next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and turned her to face him. “Not just them, no.” Their eyes met again, and this time it was his that did the communicating, trying to tell her without words what seeing her meant to him. That the time he’d spent away from her dragged by and felt as monotonous as a metronome, that seeing her again made any obstacle worth the challenge to overcome. If her lowered eyes, slow blush, and small but widening smile were any indication, she knew. “I missed you,” he said, pulling her into a close embrace, burying his nose into her hair, soft as clouds and sweet-smelling as liquorice.

 

Her arms wrapped and tightened around him, fingers moving across his back as though testing how real he was. “I missed you too.” She peered up at him, head cocked. “You had me worried when you said you couldn’t make it. What was the problem?”

 

Thoughts of Kofu and his parents, cold and hard, swept over him, trying to steal away the colourful haze enveloping him. He let the memories pass by and shook his head. “It’s a long story. My parents and I… Our living arrangements are a bit of a mess right now. We’re not used to being around each other, and a lot of things have changed since I got back. There are some growing pains that need to be worked out.”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

He tightened his hold on her, trying to keep his grip on the warmth she stirred in him. “I am now.” He threw his best, most charming smile at her, one that hadn’t failed to turn her red and fidgety during their time alone at Christmas.

 

She didn’t buy it. “I meant back there.”

 

He sighed, resigning himself to topics he’d been trying to run from since April. “I will be. It’s just going to take some time.”

 

“You’re sure?” She reached up to brush his bangs back, knuckles grazing his face. He moved closer to them on reflex, part of his stomach curling like a happy cat at the contact. “Because I’m here. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone.”

 

That was the hard part – the stark cold reality that he couldn’t outrun, that part of him, a very large part, wanted to keep his old life, the person he was with his parents, as far from Inaba as humanly possible. His best idea had been isolation and distance, that by not talking to the people of one life about those in the other, he might succeed long enough for his old life to become irrelevant. But the problem, he recognized, was that those he cared for and loved wouldn’t wait forever and happily accept his half-truths and evasions. Yukiko wouldn’t allow for a hole in his past, a gap that consisted of his first sixteen years of life, to be left unfilled. Naoto, when he talked to her in Kofu, had proven that his life wasn’t as easily separated as he wanted. His efforts might have worked for a while, but when he looked to his heart of hearts, he knew he was doing everything by himself for himself. And they, the Investigation Team as a whole, had made battle tactics and new ways of life of never going it alone. He’d have to change something, and knowing it didn’t make it any easier.

 

Soon. He’d start working on that soon. But not yet. Not now.

 

Souji pulled her closer, and the world fell away a little bit again. He moved a hand up to cup her cheek. The warmth sent tingles up his arm, and part of his brain cursed his gloves and scars. “I know. I’m sorry about earlier.”

 

“Will you let me help you?”

 

“I’ll try.” He grunted ruefully. “It’s not going to be easy, but I’ll try.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

 

It was then that Nanako moved next to him and tugged on his jacket, bringing two pairs of eyes down to meet hers. “Big Bro? I was going to get some food, did you and big sis Yukiko want anything?”

 

Yukiko’s startled expression was priceless, a mix of startled embarrassment and bemused humour with a touch of laughter mixed in. Souji wished he could have caught the moment with his camera, but it was not to be. The rest of the table had calmed down a notch. Chie was still doing an excellent impression of a tomato, sitting ramrod straight in her chair and glaring knives and broken glass at Teddie who, for once, was subdued and silent. Yosuke looked supremely uncomfortable in between the two, Kanji was sketching what looked like clothing designs on nearby napkins, and Naoto was watching Teddie and Chie closely, prepared to move in a heartbeat if a repeat of the previous meltdown seemed imminent. “Sure Nanako, let’s go.”

 

He separated from Yukiko and linked hands with her and his cousin, heading toward the food counter. Yosuke, feeling like a lightning rod without a ground, sprang up to join them, as did Chie with heavy footfalls and huffs and mutters about a new bear rug. “So…” Yukiko started, “did the others want anything?”

 

“I’ll go check,” Yosuke volunteered, giving Chie a wide berth.

 

“’Bis sis’?” Souji murmured to Yukiko with a cocked eyebrow, revelling in the blush it resulted in.

 

“I-it’s the first time she’s said that to me.”

 

“She did say you hang out with her a lot.”

 

Yosuke returned, still walking wide around Chie, and the group headed toward the food counters, collected lunch, and returned to the table.

 

“We have to do something to welcome Sensei back!” Teddie mentioned when they were halfway through their meals.

 

“Hn? Like what?” Kanji muttered around a mouthful of rib.

 

“That would be appropriate,” Naoto mentioned around her much more dainty servings, “but we haven’t planned anything, nor do we have the supplies for a celebration.”

 

Souji blinked owlishly, than shook his head. “You don’t need to throw a party for me, you know. If we celebrate every time I come back to Inaba, we’re all going to be broke before the year’s out.”

 

“Not just your return, but a belated birthday party too!” Chie exclaimed. The others at the table turned to him in varying degrees of enthusiasm (Teddie and Nanako) and curiosity (Yukiko and Kanji).

 

That threw him into a tailspin. “Uh… Where’d you learn about my birthday?”

 

“Dojima-san told me,” she said, a good-natured scowl on her face. “You could have mentioned it before, you know.”

 

“I was adjusting to Kofu all of April, Chie.”

 

“And last year?”

 

“It was before I moved, and I didn’t even know any of you then. Give me a break.”

 

“When is your birthday, Senpai?” Naoto inquired.

 

“April 4th.”

 

“You’re serious?” Yosuke demanded. “You didn’t even tell us?”

 

“C’mon,” Souji began, “it’s not _that_ big a deal.”

 

“Wrong! It’s damn important! In fact, I agree: we’re having a party to celebrate it. Today!” his unofficial second-in-command declared.

 

“Then we’ll have to do it right,” Chie agreed, “and that means on-site cooking.” She either ignored the sudden silence and reflexive stiffening of the three males at the table, or didn’t notice. “We’ll go get the ingredients. Come on, Yukiko.”

 

Souji’s chest clenched while a cold sweat broke out over his body. Yes, the girls had made an excellent Christmas cake, but nothing, not  time, better experiences, or alcohol, could banish those memories. Unbidden, the numbers crunched furiously in his head. One successful attempt, though it was their third and the result of a group effort, on one side of the tally, while on the other was two helpings of Mystery Food X, three omelette experiments, and one botched _bento_ attempt from Yukiko that he swore was still sitting like a lump of concrete in his stomach. The scales and odds didn’t need to teeter or shift, nor did the probabilities need to be completely computed before he opened his mouth. “I’ll come too. I’ll make a list as we go.”

 

“What? No, the party’s for you. We can’t make you cook for yourself.”

 

“Chie-san does have a point, Senpai,” Naoto put in, an eyebrow raised. “It is rather unorthodox to make the focus of the celebration cook the meals.”

 

“I don’t mind,” he replied immediately, getting up from his chair and finishing his lunch on his feet.

 

\--

 

What a picture they must have made, he thought later as they made their way back to the Dojima residence. Yosuke was staggering under an awkward tripod briquette barbecue with Teddie, carrying as little as the team members would allow, in tow. Nanako and Yukiko had their hands and arms full with vegetables and seasonings (the list of which had been fine-tuned by Souji), Naoto had volunteered to carry the tofu side-dishes, and Kanji and Chie were weighed down by the main ingredients of the voted-upon dish – meat. Steaks and chicken pieces and sausages (mostly Chie’s idea) bulged from bags and sacks as the team made their way down the street, chatting as lively as a circus troupe. The comparison wasn’t far from the mark, Souji decided when he looked over them – all different heights and colours and tones. Only Rise’s absence made the Team incomplete, and that void, part of him knew, was temporary. He’d been forcibly deprived of any bags or burdens by everyone else, who’d pitched in to cover the cost of the groceries as well. He’d be cooking (and for the sake of the food they’d bought, he _would_ be cooking), so his contribution to the group would come soon enough.

 

As soon as they reached the Dojima residence, the team immediately started discussing (it sounded like arguing to Souji) who would be doing what. It didn’t take long before Chie’s menu ideas came to light, and Yosuke’s objections rose in half a second. References to Mystery Food X and the cake the girls’d made for Nanako immediately made their way to the fore of the verbal field, arguments over how much they’d practiced and how lucky they were in the van, and the question of luck or skill being more important held in reserve. Souji, Investigation Team leader and diplomatic extraordinaire, started unpacking the groceries. Some stayed on the counter, some went into the fridge, others wound up on the table, and others still were left for later. When Chie stepped in , arguing that he shouldn’t be cooking a meal made in his own honour, he’d replied with “of course not. I’m just getting started, but the barbecue’s going to need time to heat up, right?”. Other objections to his having a hand in the meals met such responses as “sure, that sounds good, but the recipe says...”, “if we’re going to eat it later on, then it should be left until...”, and “if we cut it like that, it might taste like...”. Suggestions were made, people were directed, and soon enough Kanji and Chie were hovering by the barbecue on the deck, Naoto was cutting up the salad, and Yukiko and Yosuke were tending to cutlery and drinks. Teddie’s experience (lack of) and Nanako’s enthusiasm put them at the living room table, relaying messages back and forth between cooking stations. And at the heart and nerve centre of the team stood Souji, cooking and cutting and directing and seasoning and wanting to be nowhere else for it. Soon the house smelled of mirin sauce and roasting meats and fruit drinks, and the Team was scattered about, feasting on the bounties of Souji’s talent.

 

“Man,” Yosuke groaned, leaning back against the couch. “Never mind our wallets. If we do this every time you come back, we’ll never keep the weight off.” Less than half the food had been used, still waiting in containers and the fridge, and they’d resolved to use the rest at the Inn the next day.

 

“Tell me about it.” Chie gazed longingly at the last slab of steak on her plate, her taste buds warring with her full stomach over whether just one more bite would hurt. The others lay back in similar repose, sated and lethargic from an early lunch that’d rivalled most dinner buffets.

 

“There’s a trick to it,” Souji told them modestly, sipping at his fruit smoothie slowly, enjoying every drop and looking as calm as ever, as though untouched by the amount of food he’d put away. “Seriously though, you didn’t have to eat it all.”

 

“Impossible not to,” Kanji grunted. “It’s right up there with Ma’s cookin’, and that ain’t easy.”

 

“I concur,” Naoto murmured. She missed Yosuke’s eyes light up from across the room like street lamps.

 

“Oh? When’ve you had Kanji’s mother’s food, Naoto-kun? Something you haven’t told us yet?”

 

“I-I-“ Naoto stammered, jerking as if shocked by a live wire.

 

“Wh-what the hell’re you blabbin’ about?!” Kanji jumped in, half off the floor and mostly red.

 

“Well, that’s what it sounded like, right Yukiko-san?”

 

“Um, I had Kanji-kun’s mother’s food several times when we were children,” she replied.

 

“Uh, I don’t think that’s what they meant,” Chie ventured.

 

“I simply meant that Senpai is an excellent cook, Yosuke-senpai,” Naoto clarified with narrow eyes, completely in control once again. “I was agreeing with the sentiment, not the situation.”

 

“Uh-huh, riiiiight.” Yosuke smirked and winked at her from his place on the floor. Kanji looked ready to jump up and throttle him when the door clacked open.

 

“I’m home- whoa. Souji, how many people’d you invite home this time?”

 

“Just my friends from before, Uncle Dojima,” the teen replied, smoothly (to the envy of at least half the people in his house) rising to greet the man. “We just finished lunch, actually. Are you hungry? Or do you have to leave soon?”

 

“No, I’m done for the day. Said I’d be back early, didn’t I?” The detective shook off his shoes and came into the kitchen, looking appraisingly at the teens sprawled on his floor and the remnants of their feast.

 

“You did indeed.”

 

“Welcome home, Dad!” Nanako rushed up, shaking off her sluggishness in a wink.

 

“Hey Nanako. What’ve you got going here?”

 

“We’re having a birthday party for Big Bro!”

 

“Belated party,” Souji corrected a touch bashfully when his uncle gave him a knowing smirk.

 

“I see. What did you make?”

 

The day went on from there.

 

\--

 

“Jeez,” Yosuke sighed, “you didn’t have to make all that, you know. Something small would’ve been just fine.” The two were outside, letting the conversation in the house go where it would while everyone geared up for dinner. The Inaba evening painted splashes of golds and purples and vibrant reds across the sky.

 

“I’m not worried – I’ll make all of you clean up before you leave,” Souji replied, leaning back against the fence and staring upward. “So how’ve you been, Yosuke?”

 

“Hm? Me? It’s only been two months dude, you think I’m gonna change that much?”

 

“Two months without a murder case, abductions, or fog from the TV world,” Souji pointed out. “How’re you taking the quiet?”

 

Yosuke shrugged. “It hasn’t completely hit me yet, but I don’t think I’ll mind. I haven’t forgotten our discussion.”

 

Souji smiled. Their talks at Junes, Yosuke’s resolve to live in Inaba, and their fight on the riverbank returned to his mind and made his jaw throb. It felt like, despite the team still calling him “Leader”, he could let it go and stop worrying over them. For the time, anyway. “That’s good. And the others? I’ve already talked to Yukiko and Kanji, so how’re Chie and Naoto and Teddie?”

 

Yosuke shrugged and flicked his thumb across the MP3 player at his waist. “Teddie’s still working at Junes and keeping an eye on the TV world. No changes from last time you saw it. Chie’s more gung-ho about her kung-fu than ever, and Naoto’s been working cases by correspondence. Seems she’s decided to put down roots here.”

 

“Her grandfather’s here,” Souji added, “so I imagine she’ll be here for a while longer.”

 

“Good. I get the feeling she needs it. Stability, friends, you know.”

 

“And the chance to act her age.”

 

Yosuke chuckled, looking over with one eye closed. “I think we all deserve that, but seriously, you’re one to talk. I don’t think you’ve changed a bit since you left.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“You’re still concerned with everyone else and never giving yourself a break. Yukiko-san was right about you not needing to go it alone, you know.”

 

Souji glanced skyward, letting the quiet of an Inaba weekend flow over him. “Easier said than done. Before it was exams, practice in the TV world, abductions and a murder case, and now its parents, classmates, and still more exams. I guess nothing’s really changed for me in that respect.”

 

“Hm. Maybe you’re not meant to slow down that much.”

 

Souji shrugged, still looking up. “Maybe. Who knows?”

 

“Think someone out there’s gonna ease off you soon?”

 

“Doesn’t matter if they do; I’m not staying in Kofu or Tokyo.”

 

“Got something in mind?”

 

“Here.” He said it immediately and with such conviction that it never occurred to Yosuke to doubt him. “I want to come back here. It’s probably going to take a while, but this is where I belong.”

 

Yosuke glanced at him, looking almost impressed. “For Yukiko-san?”

 

“For everyone.” Souji looked over at his friend, eyes bright and burning with resolve. “Before I came here, I went through the motions, did what was expected of me, and never thought twice about it. I never thought there might be something else out there, didn’t have a reason to. Out here, I’m not some corporate ladder-climber’s son or next in line for a finance or government position. You’re the first friends I’ve ever really had, and I’m not letting that go.”

 

Yosuke shook his head. “Before the TV world, I would’ve said you’re nuts, wanting to stay here. Now, I think I see where you’re coming from. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

 

“Likewise.”

 

“Really? Don’t you think you’ve done enough for all of us?”

 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do more.”

 

Yosuke laughed and switched songs again. “You really don’t run out of surprises, man.” An easy silence fell over them, both lost in the familiarity and quiet around them. Souji closed his eyes and let it soak in, trying to store as much serenity as he could, while he could. Time stretched, the chatter from inside the house blended in with the dull roar of traffic and evening birdsong, turning out an ambiance that almost lulled him to sleep. Because of this, he didn’t hear Yosuke fidgeting, or see him turn and face him. “Hey.” The brunette’s tone was deeper, hesitant and edgy. Souji’s eyes popped open immediately. “Can I ask you something?”

 

_First Kanji, now Yosuke._ “Shoot.”

 

Yosuke paused. Then hedged. And then shuffled, twitched, and breathed out. Finally, “you ever have trouble sleeping? From nightmares or anything?”

 

Souji blinked, his face blank. “Sure. Usually after a horror movie marathon, or a bad batch of American deep-fried chicken.”

 

“I meant from the TV.”

 

Oh. Right. Souji shifted uncomfortably, his ambiance and tranquility slamming into a truck and dying painfully on the highway while his memories traipsed forward, wreathed in grey fog and fear. “Sometimes,” he replied, his voice darker, heavier with the weight of the burden the whole team shared.

 

“Yeah, me too. Sometimes.” Yosuke’s voice was bland, flat as week-old soda left open and untouched.

 

“Want to talk about it?” The brunette turned away, fingers clenching rhythmically. He didn’t answer, but didn’t leave or shut down the topic either. “I’ll start?” A Pause. Hesitance. Then a shaky nod. “It’s worst when it rains. Every time I hear it rain, especially at night, the memories come back.” Souji checked the door, accounted for all the voices – this was too personal to share, or at least right now - , then let the words out. “I have nightmares about Yukiko and Kanji, Rise, Naoto, even you and Chie. It’s always about what might’ve happened if we hadn’t been there to save them. What they might’ve gone through. Or, sometimes, that we failed and died in the TV, and what would’ve happened afterwards. The fog, the Shadows, Ameno-Sagiri and Izanami, things like that.”

 

Yosuke shivered – despite the twilight, it wasn’t cold out. “You’re our leader,” he muttered, and this time the words weren’t spouted cheerfully. Instead they were heavy and thick as molasses, like when the Team stood before Namatame, on the verge of passing judgement on their enemy, knowing or not. “I guess it makes sense that you’d be worried about our success.”

 

“The worst nights…” Souji broke off, feeling the words cut into his throat like metal barbs, refusing to come out. He tried. They stuck even harder. _You have to_ , he reminded himself. _You won’t get another chance like this._

 

Yosuke must’ve noticed the effort, or guessed what we was going to say and didn’t want to hear it. “You don’t need to-“

 

“The worst nights-“ the words were ragged, painful, and shook as the images and screams flooded his brain “-are when I remember Nanako, and Namatame.” Nothing. Silence. “I keep seeing that car wreck, keep hearing her voice in Heaven, remembering…” his hands were shaking now, even clenched until the knuckles were white and the nails bit into the leather on his palms, “when she died. And I couldn’t do anything.”

 

Silence reigned between the two. “Dude…”

 

“I wake up around then, never know where I am. And all I can think is how I should’ve been there.”

 

“Hey.” Yosuke punched him lightly in the shoulder, catching his attention. “You did what you could. You were in an interrogation room, remember? And if the doctors couldn’t save her, then neither could you.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Souji responded flatly.

 

“Like hell it doesn’t. None of us caught it either.”

 

Souji wanted to keep going, to bare the pain that haunted his nights and wallow in his anger, but he stopped. It wasn’t just about him. Yosuke’d started the discussion, so obviously the Team leader wasn’t the only one with baggage. “You?”

 

Yosuke tapped broken tempos on the fence boards, his eyes distant and pained. “Adachi,” he muttered finally. “Everything we went through being a game for that sick bastard, and Saki-senpai’s murder, those were all the reasons I needed to fight him. But seeing him down there, hearing him talk, it scared me. You remember the fight?” Souji grimaced – his left hand and right shoulder twisted and writhed painfully at the memory. “I’ve never felt that kind of evil coming off someone before. None of the Shadows were like that.”

 

Yosuke had a point. So often the Shadows had felt twisted and chaotic, reflections of the inner turmoil from which they were born. Powerful and dangerous, without a doubt, but without direction or focus beyond immediate aggression.

 

Adachi had been different. Raw malevolence and hate had flowed off him like a gagging odour, focused and tangible and all the more terrifying because, unlike the Shadows, there was a human will directing it. “My hands were shaking the whole time,” Yosuke admitted. “Sometimes I’m back there, alone or with you and the others hurt or dead, and I can’t escape. It’s worse when I remember Izanami.” He shuddered. His words became clipped, pained. “Dying was… well, it makes for some bad nights.”

 

Guilt arose in Souji. Of all the experiences the Investigation Team had gone through, that was one he couldn’t share.

 

“Sometimes I think Rise’s shadow killed us,” he trailed off, “that Teddie wasn’t there to save us, or that his shadow did us in. Chie’s the same.”

 

“You’ve talked to her about it?” Souji inquired.

 

“Once or twice. She said she was fine at night, but that going to the lion exhibit at the zoo with her parents almost gave her a heart attack. Same with the mantas or any large fish. She wouldn’t talk about Izanami at all when I asked. Yukiko-san’s trigger is masks.”

 

“Masks? How’d you find out about that?”

 

“Chie was at a theatre production with her, and they were using masks as props. Noh masks, I think she called them. Chie said Yukiko got sick after seeing some of them, and they both ditched the place early. I’m not sure about Kanji, Rise, or Naoto, and I don’t know if Teddie even has scars like that.”

 

Souji struggled with his words when Yosuke fell silent. What could he say to that? What could anyone say to a friend who’d died in that last battle and then come back? “I… I see.” He winced; that sounded even worse out loud than it did in his head.

 

Yosuke didn’t notice, or pretended not to. “You think it’ll get better?”

 

“I don’t know,” Souji murmured. “I want to think that time and better memories will be enough, but I really don’t know.”

 

“We won, but no one got away without scars. You never hear about those in the movies, do you? The hero’s supposed to walk off with the girl without a scratch, on to the next adventure. Not wake up screaming in the middle of the night, cramped from old injuries and scars.”

 

“Life’s not a movie though. Not even after so much time in the TV.”

 

Yosuke chuckled, more cheerfully than before. “No kidding. I mean, you got a girl out of it, so maybe it’s not all lies, right?”

 

“Hm. Maybe. You did too though, no? You say you got all that information from Chie, right?”

 

“What? Aw, no way man! Not cool!” Souji laughed, the grip of his memories easing off a little. Yosuke’s eyes were similarly brighter, despite the haunted look around the edges. “Hey. Thanks. For the talk, I mean. It helped.”

 

Souji held out a hand, which was immediately taken in a rough grip. “Any time, Yosuke. I mean it.”

 

“Yeah. You too.” He checked his watch, sniffing toward the door. “The food smells like it’ll be ready soon. Shall we?”

 

“After you.”

 

\--

 

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur of laughter and antics. Chie stared Teddie off of her side of the table, instead surrounding herself with Nanako and Naoto. Teddie, utterly unfazed, kept Nanako entertained while Kanji and Yosuke were left dodging his elbows and flailing hands every now and then. Dojima rested back on the couch, looking over the teens invading his house with a calm, level smile, at ease as Souji had only seen him a few times before. Souji himself was barraged with off-key birthday songs, belated well-wishes, and ideas for what he should have gotten for every one of his missed birthdays, the suggestions getting larger in size and explanations more ludicrous as the evening progressed. Throughout it all, his hand was entwined with Yukiko’s on the floor between them. Much the same as the afternoon, time flew by and he wouldn’t have been anywhere else if the option were available.

 

The rest of the food finally disappeared, and the team stayed only long enough to help clean up before going their separate ways, extracting promises of visiting the Amagi Inn the next day. Nanako was napping on the couch, curled up to Dojima’s lap like a kitten, by the time the door closed the last time.

 

“What a crowd,” Dojima whispered quietly. Souji nodded, stepping out of the way when his uncle picked up his slumbering cousin and padded to her room, returning several minutes later. “Coffee?”

 

“No thanks. Any more caffeine and I’ll never get to sleep. Don’t mind me though.”

 

Dojima grunted before heading to the kitchen. Souji slumped into a chair by the table, feeling every minute of the past two days wearing on his feet. Still, it would take two men with a crowbar and a sledgehammer to get the grin off his face. Seeing everyone again made it worth the argument with his parents and the lousy sleep on the train. His head was still full of Yukiko’s scent from their parting embrace. His hand still tingled where they’d touched. _Totally worth it._

 

“So how’re you holding up?” Dojima asked, sitting across from him, pulling Souji from his lethargic reverie. “How’s the family in Kofu?”

 

Souji grunted, shifting in his seat. “About the same as before they left for America. Living by their phones, making plans months in advance, the usual.”

 

“You’re getting along, at least?”

 

“Yep, but it’s hard not to get along with people who’re never there. They go to the office every morning, I go to school, sometimes they’re home that night, sometimes not. Rinse and repeat.”

 

Dojima frowned. “Izumi said the trip to the States was going to be the end of it, that she was going to ease up on the work.” He frowned even more when Souji’s smile dissolved and broke into a humourless, almost mocking, laugh.

 

“I’ve been hearing that for years. Hasn’t happened yet. There’s always  ‘just one more project’, and then it starts all over again. Dad’s worse. Mind you, he’s never said he’d stop, but he has cots and wardrobe chests at work.”

 

“And you’re okay with that?”

 

Souji stared at him blankly, grey eyes wide and blinking mechanically like headlights. “As opposed to what? It’s always been this way. I don’t expect them to change for my sake; I wouldn’t know what to do with them if they _were_ around more often.”

 

“Izumi knows better. You’re her son, Souji.” Dojima’s fingers tightened around his mug, his scowl sinking into the careless liquid.

 

Heedless of this, the teen gave a careless shrug. “They forget details like that.”

 

“That’s not the point!” Dojima’s tone was sharp as a drawn blade, though quiet for Nanako’s sake. It jerked Souji up in his chair and caught his attention. “You’re family. They’re your parents. You told me that family’s too important to run away from, remember? So why doesn’t this bother you?”

 

Souji was silent for a while. The answer was right there, at the front of his mind as soon as Dojima asked. He paused, searched and prodded the reason, unsure if it was, in fact, that simple. But nothing else came up. “It’s always been this way, Dojima. They’ve always been busy, and I’m a secondary priority to them. Teacher meetings, school events, basketball games, everything else. You and Nanako had something before I got here. There was somewhere for you to go, something to improve on. Me, there’s nothing there to begin with. So 30% more nothing is still nothing.”

 

“Coming from you, Souji, that’s pretty pathetic. You sound like it’s not worth the effort to change.”

 

“Because it isn’t. In two or three years, I’ll be at university somewhere, and they’ll still be married to their jobs and bump into each other at the house every now and then. They’ll forget about me, and I’ll go on with my life as I desire. I’m okay with that.” Dojima struggled with it, the calm, casual acceptance in Souji’s voice, the detachment, all coming from someone who’d fought tooth and nail for his uncle and cousin.

 

“They’re not going to forget about you; give them a little credit.”

 

“Hm. You’re right. Perhaps ‘forget’ is the wrong word for it. I’ll be remembered intellectually, I’m sure. My parents will be able to say they have a son to their associates and business partners – I mean, it makes them look better – but I don’t expect things to change. I doubt I’ll get visits when I move out, or phone calls or messages for anything not work- or school-related. That’s what I meant. They’ll go on with their lives, I’ll go on with mine, and we might cross paths every now and again. Like train tracks.”

 

“That’s… it’s wrong, Souji. You deserve better than that.”

 

“Does it mean that much to you?”

 

“You’re family; of course it does. How much have you told them about Inaba?”

 

“Nothing.” Succinct. To the point. That same detached tone. “They never asked, and there are a lot of things I don’t want to tell them about.”

 

“And people? Like the Amagi girl?”

 

“They _especially_ don’t need to know about her. Or anyone else here. But, if it’s so important, let me turn it around – what was my mother like?”

 

Dojima paused, surprised by the switch in questioning. “What?”

 

“I’m serious. You probably know her a lot better than I do. Where did she go to school? What were her interests? How did she become like she is now?”

 

The air froze on the older man’s side of the table. What questions for a teenager to ask his uncle, a man he hadn’t known but for a name a year and a half ago. “I haven’t seen her in… since a bit after Nanako was born.”

 

“But you grew up with her, knew her before and after she got married, right?”

 

The silence that followed belonged in a courtroom doling out a death sentence; long, uncomfortable, stifling. Grey and brown eyes met across the table, neither flinching. Dojima knew he should be used to this. Souji never was one to take answers without questioning them or sharing his mind on them. It was why he respected the teen. “Izumi was…” Dojima scanned the ceiling as though it held all his answers. “She was always ambitious when we were growing up. Driven and capable, but she knew it and never let it change her. I always remember her pestering our parents for their bank statements. She had a knack for numbers even then.”

 

“That hasn’t changed.”

 

“Hm. She was popular in school, but not for why you might expect.” Dojima looked expectantly at his nephew and sipped his coffee.

 

Souji cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, I’ll bite. I’d guess it’s because she knew math and finances inside and out, so she tutored or something.” More silence. “She didn’t charge for doing other peoples’ homework, did she? She could probably make a killing at it.”

 

“She had an amazing singing voice. Choir and music studies. She played the flute like a master.”

 

_Singing voice_. Tantalizing, tempting, those fragments of memory brushed his mind. Comfort, security, and threads of a song he’d never heard before or since. Never a face or scent to tie to the memory, just feelings and sounds. Souji shook his head and cleared his throat. “Singing. Really.”

 

Dojima cut through his evasiveness with a hard stare. “She sang to you when you were younger than Nanako. Don’t you remember?”

 

“Vaguely. I haven’t heard it recently. Please, go on.”

 

More silence. Then a grunt. “She was always among friends. She rarely had a bad word for anyone, and never got tangled up in school politics. You seem to share her gift for flying under the radar.”

 

“Hm. Among other things.”

 

“Seems so. Then she went off to college, met your father, and got fast tracked into the world of business.”

 

“That’s when things changed?”

 

“Not right away. Yuuma wasn’t the cause for that, not in the way you think. He fed her genius for numbers and statistics while she kept him on his toes. No matter what they might be like now, they started off as two lovesick teens. Honestly, the way they went about together, it was enough to make me sick.” Dojima smirked and gave his nephew a pointed look. “Even more so than you and Amagi.” Souji cocked an eyebrow, trying for nonchalance but failing when a blush dusted his cheeks. “Yuuma was the one who introduced her to business as an extension of her own studies. She graduated at the top of her class, but he was a year behind her. She got into finance and banking to support his business ventures when he completed his practicum, and they were thick as thieves the whole time. Figuratively speaking.”

 

Souji gave a thin smile. “Of course.”

 

“After that, they moved in together, got married, and then you were born few years later. Izumi took time off to raise you while Yuuma kept climbing the corporate ladder, and that’s when I saw you for the first time. I never thought Izumi would’ve taken to work as much as you say she has. She loved you, Souji. She used to twitch when Chisato played with you, and was very particular about who got to hold you.”

 

“How did she and Aunt Chisato get along?”

 

“Nanako is her mother’s daughter, no question. Chisato was always friendly to her, but never really connected like we did. Granted, Izumi’s my sister, but Chisato said, more than once, that she pitied you. That Izumi would let go eventually, and forget to grab back on again. Those two were cut from the same bale of paper, so I thought they’d had a spat and Chisato was venting. I watched my sis with you, and never would’ve thought she’d become as distant as she has.”

 

Souji caught the wistful tone in his uncle’s voice. “You still don’t, do you?”

 

“It’s hard for me to imagine her being as distant as you say, Souji.” He held up a hand, cutting his nephew’s words off. “I’m not saying you’re lying, or that Chisato was wrong back then. It’s just that I haven’t seen Izumi since before Chisato died. I can’t say one way or the other why she is how she is.”

 

“If that’s the case, I doubt seeing her would change anything,” Souji pointed out. “What about my father? I haven’t heard a single bad thing said about him yet.”

 

“Is that what you’re looking for? My bad experiences with him? Are you trying to validate your own opinions?”

 

“Pfft. Hardly. I think many things about the man, and very few are complimentary. What you say won’t change that.” Again, Souji’s dissociation from his parents struck a raw chord in Dojima. His nephew, who had become a loving big brother to Nanako, who had all his friends invade the house to give him a proper birthday party, had no business sounding so jaded. “Besides, I doubt he was precisely what you wanted to see my mother hook up with and marry when you met him.”

 

“Hm. I’ll give you that.”

 

“So, while we’re on the topic of family, what was he like?”

 

“Self-assured. That’s the first word that comes to mind. I never got the feeling that his goals weren’t attainable when he talked about them, no matter what I thought before or after. I guess it annoyed me when I was getting to know him. He’d be thinking six steps ahead, but he never talked about it, so I would think he was running on half-baked ideas and blind luck, when everything was planed to a T. After a while, I just stopped asking. Things seemed to work out for him, even when they didn’t.”

 

“How did my mother factor into his plans? You said they met in university, so they didn’t know of each other before then, right?”

 

“I don’t think they knew each other before then, no. As for his plans, I don’t know. Whatever they were, either she fit in perfectly, or he adjusted to make them fit her.”

 

Souji snorted, not bothering to mask the contempt in his voice. “Him changing plans for family. That would be a first.”

 

“This was more than twenty years ago.”

 

“Hmph. Please, continue.”

 

“I never got the feeling that he was wrong for Izumi, which was odd because I met a fair share of the idiots who followed her around before then. Mind you, that doesn’t mean I had any good feelings about him either. Regardless, Yuuma was always respectful, almost to the point of sounding like a corporate manager looking for a career position. Chisato didn’t like him; said he was too polished.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“She said once that he was so urbane and well-mannered that it oozed off him until he shone in the light. She hated his business sense and dedication, thought it was all he focused on and that his family was becoming less of a priority to him. I wasn’t sure what to make of it back then, but she said he disliked the familiar and commonplace, that his competitiveness was his real love.”

 

“I would’ve liked to have met her; she sounds very observant.”

 

“She was,” Dojima sighed ruefully. “More often than not, she was dead on. Not always, but lots of times. I think I could see it too, back then. He never talked about you, for instance, no matter how often Chisato or I would raise the topic. Whether it was inexperience or discomfort, he’d always dodge the issue. It made him a bad source of information when we wanted to know how you were growing up, and you can guess how Chisato would’ve taken that.”

 

“So I was a footnote in his life plans?” There was no self-pity or rancour in his voice. Just an observation.

 

“I don’t know. It was your mom’s plan to have kids someday, but she talked about it less as time went on. Yuuma always talked about climbing the ladder, and she started to sound the same over the years. And then you were born, and she doted on you right from the start.”

 

“Maybe she’s like my father – she got bored. I mean, people change. Not always for the better.”

 

Dojima glared again, though Souji stared right back this time. “Watch your mouth Souji. That is my sister you’re talking about.”

 

“She’s also my mother. I’d like to think I’ve deserved more than being an idle concern of hers all these years, something to pass the time that only shows up on occasion. But I don’t. It’s her life, she can do what she wants.” Souji could see Dojima stiffening up, preparing for another barrage. He also felt his exhaustion pulling him into the seat, weighing him down like an anchor tied to his chest. He held up his hands, palms out. “Enough. Please. This discussion’s going nowhere. I don’t want to start a fight over my parents, especially when I’m only here for a few days.”

 

His uncle held back his retort, not expecting the teen to concede so quickly. Part of him, the brother, wanted to defend his elder sister to the end. The uncle in him, however, the part that connected with this lonely teen trying to build a life for himself after spending so long on the lives of others, was unwilling to spend their limited time on vitriol. So he held his tongue and sat back in his chair. Silence fell over the room, though it was more comfortable this time.

 

Souji stretched in his seat, then pulled himself out of it. “Well, I’m going to bed,” he said through a yawn, creaking his neck in the process.

 

Dojima tossed back the last of his coffee and stood up as well. “Yeah, not a bad idea. Did it help?”

 

“Which? The talk?” Dojima nodded. “Sort of. It’s nice to hear you talk about Nanako’s mom. I know that can’t have been easy.”

 

His uncle shifted and glanced away. “It’s… easier these days.”

 

“Good. I’m glad. Still, it was interesting; I didn’t know my mother played the flute.”

 

“That’s what you picked up, out of all that? Chisato’s opinion of your parents, and your mother playing the flute?”

 

Souji glanced at Dojima, then sighed. “It’s all it can be, uncle. Knowing how she used to be doesn’t change how she is now. She didn’t change before I came here last year, she didn’t change when I saw her in Kofu, and I’ll bet money that she’s not going to have changed when I go back.”

 

“She might surprise you. She’s human, after all, and might come around.”

 

“Perhaps. Maybe. G’night.”

 

“Good night.”

 

Souji made his way up the stairs and to his room, padding quietly past Nanako’s room, and barely folded out his futon before collapsing on it, fatigue crawling up around him in an embrace like thick fog.

 

The last thought that passed his mind after flashing through the 24 hours, from the ups of seeing Nanako, Yukiko, and his friends again, to the downs of his conversations with Yosuke and Dojima, was _Geez… What a day._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

While Souji knew Kou and Daisuke would look in on him after he arrived, and while he knew how enthusiastic they could be when determined to get something, and even as he knew how good they both were with kids, especially Nanako, he hadn’t expected them to take up residence in the Dojima kitchen shortly after his uncle left for work and entertain Nanako with their stories and antics. Nor, for that matter, did he expect them to make enough noise making breakfast to wake a hibernating bear. While he couldn’t be sure, it didn’t seem like a coincidence that all the noise, from the banging and crashing and uncontrollable laughter, was originating directly below his room. And thus, at 7:18AM, Souji awoke to the faint mumblings beneath his floor, groggily checked the time, and then rolled over and tried to doze off. He was asleep shortly after his discussion with Dojima, but the night had left him feeling wool-headed and stuffed up. At 7:21, Nanako came up to tell him that his two sports friends were waiting. She got a half-coherent mumble that sounded like “I’ll be there soon.” Sadly, the pair downstairs translated that as “I’m still sleeping, leave me alone,” and took it as a challenge. So the talking volume rose, as did the range of pitch when Kou started using different voices for what Souji thought was a puppet show. Then the knocking of furniture and walls began. Finally, at 7:39, Souji bolted upright at the sound of the frying pan and a bowl knocking together. Giving up on the idea of getting anymore sleep, he shouted down the stairs and stumbled into the _furo_ for a quick bath. Changed, clean, and in a partial state of consciousness, he staggered into the kitchen, welcomed by the sight of two grins far too wide to be as innocent as they were trying for.

 

“Hey there!” Kou greeted cheerily, happily ignoring the tired glare from their silver-haired friend.

 

“’Morning, Piglet,” Souji mumbled through a yawn.

 

“Who’s Piglet?” Nanako asked, looking among the teens curiously.

 

“Dude, it was Hamlet, not Piglet!”

 

“Speaking of pork, I hope you managed to make something edible down here,” Souji continued, glancing toward the kitchen. Despite every pot and pan they owned being somewhere on the table or counter, nothing looked or smelled made. Nor were any ingredients out.

 

“Well, that’s part of the reason we came over, y’know? Daisuke’s parents are working right now and mine are on vacation. And Nanako said she was hungry, so...”

 

Souji cocked an eyebrow, weariness replaced by an exaggerated calm, steady even by his usual standards and edged with frost. “So you expect me to make breakfast after all the noise you made down here?”

 

“Well, we didn’t _expect_ you to, but there was that little hope, I suppose.”

 

“How little?”

 

“Uh... well...”

 

“We heard you do a lot of the cooking here, and figured we’d piggyback on whatever you make for Nanako-chan,” Daisuke butted in, saving face for his partner-in-crime.

 

Or trying to. “You two would have passed Aiya on the way here. Why not pony up for breakfast?”

 

“Uh, well, I kinda forgot my wallet at home,” Kou admitted bashfully.

 

“And I’m broke,” was Daisuke’s straightforward response.

 

“And you think whatever’s left from a 7-year-old’s breakfast is going to be enough for you two?”

 

“Um,” Nanako interjected, looking up hopefully at her cousin. “Could we have miso soup? Big Bro makes the best miso soup!”

 

Souji hesitated, and Kou jumped on the opening. “Of course! Best way to start the day, Nanako-chan.”

 

Souji looked from his hopeful cousin, to a triumphant Kou, to an almost-indifferent Daisuke. And sighed. “Fine.” He couldn’t help his lips turning up at Nanako’s exultant “Yay!”, nor the cunning smile as he turned to the other two. “Of course, I only need so many pots and pans for that. You’d be happy to put those away, right?” The pair looked in mild dismay at the scattered receptacles scattered everywhere. “Nanako can show you where everything goes,” he continued as he walked toward the fridge, already multiplying his recipes to accommodate his guests.

 

\--

 

Breakfast was an unusual combination of good food (even by Souji’s standards), odd company, and the unexpectedly entertaining sight of Nanako ordering Kou and Daisuke around like a tiny drill sergeant, standing on a chair and lording over them in an authoritative voice. The pair dove into their roles, especially Kou, and even through the sandy-headed fatigue and concentration of cooking, Souji couldn’t help but laugh at their antics.

 

Once breakfast was finished and cleaned, with a suitable number of compliments to the chef, Nanako left to visit her friends, after which the three males began the process of catching up. Somewhere between Daisuke’s tales of Kou’s attempts of talking to Chie and their arguments over who the better actor was, the nearby basketball court and its refurbishing, news to Souji, was brought up. Jumping at the chance to turn the attention back to Souji, Kou simply asked where his ball was. In less than ten minutes, the kitchen was cleaned, the house locked, and the trio walking down the street with a set destination in mind.

 

Which led them to the present situation of Kou and Souji running off breakfast by tearing up and down the court, trying to outdo each other’s shots while Daisuke watched from the nearby bench, keeping score.

 

The exertion and fresh air fuelled the adrenaline hammering through Souji’s bloodstream, burning away the fatigue and malaise from that morning. The fierce competitiveness and easy friendship that permeated every step and throw reminded him of Kofu and the basketball team, perhaps the first time he could say he’d found something in common between Inaba and his city life that didn’t leave a bad taste in his mouth.

 

The months of his absence disappeared under the ball’s constant beat on the pavement. The contests had started with ‘first to 20’, but they’d ended up coming too close with Kou’s speed against Souji’s practiced long shots. Horse, an old favourite of the pair, was a lost cause since the entire game would go by with the ball changing hands only once or twice. And most of the following contests were deemed unfair since their playing styles were so different. So they’d forsaken the rules and instead taken to running up and down the court, dodging around the other and lining up shots for practice. It was hard and fast, it was pointless outside self-improvement, and Souji’s body sang every second and step they played.

 

Finally their energy waned, both breathing hard and hunched over and laughing breathlessly. Daisuke tossed them towels and water as they approached the bench, still chuckling uncontrollably. When they’d gotten their breath back, Kou glanced over at the city-dweller. “Man, you haven’t lost your edge. Best game I’ve had since you left.”

 

Souji wiped his face with his towel, swishing water around his mouth before swallowing. “Me too. The group I practice with in Kofu’s good for keeping me on my feet, but you’re just as fast as before.”

 

“What’re they like?”

 

“Toyama and the others?” Souji mulled it over, and then shrugged. “Dedicated. Serious. Some of them take it too seriously, and there’s competitiveness among all the players, even for a sports team, but they’re alright.”

 

“That’s not really a stellar recommendation,” Kou pointed out, accompanied by Daisuke’s grunt of agreement.

 

“It’s not that. Toyama’s a good guy for a team captain. He’s down to earth, fair, and loves the game for its own sake. There are some people on the team who see it more as a sport, that’s all. And it shows in how they play.”

 

“So they’re in it for sports scholarships or drafting?” Daisuke inquired.

 

“Yep.”

 

“So what’s Toyama like off the court?” Kou asked, idly spinning the autographed ball on one finger.

 

“I’m not sure.”

 

The pair paused, clearly surprised by the response. “What?” Kou stuttered out finally.

 

“We don’t hang out after games much, and when we do it’s either about the game or school. I know more about his girlfriend than I do him.”

 

“Ohhh?” Daisuke drawled, eyes lighting up above a slanted grin. “I sense a story there. I’m not surprised, either – even the city girls are drooling after you.”

 

Souji’s reply was Kou waving a hand between them. “Pffft. Not likely. Souji’s only got eyes for Amagi-san.”

 

“Hm? Yukiko Amagi?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Ahhh, taking on the Amagi Challenge, are you?” Daisuke winked broadly as Souji pushed himself back into the discussion.

 

“It’s not like that. First off, Takenaka and I are acquaintances. Nothing more. She’s joined to Toyama’s hip, and I’m-“ He bit his tongue.

 

“Yes?” the paired intoned, leaning in mischievously.

 

“Unavailable,” Souji finished. “For various reasons. Second, what Yukiko and I are in has nothing to do with that Amagi Challenge. It’s not like there’s a cash reward at the end of the line or something.”

 

“You don’t think Amagi-san’s a prize by herself?” Kou inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

 

“I didn’t- You’re miswording what I said. Besides, what does it matter?”

 

“To a lot of the guys in her class? Plenty. But it makes me wonder if you’ve met her parents yet.”

 

Souji looked at him quizzically. “There hasn’t been an opportunity for that. Why the change in topic? What does it matter?”

 

“Just curious. Chie-san’s said more than once that they’re pretty scary people.”

 

“She told you that, huh?”

 

“Well, not directly. It was more that she said her parents weren’t as scary as Amagi-san’s, that’s all.”

 

“You’ve been talking to her then. Good to hear.”

 

To his credit, Kou only blushed slightly at the insinuation. “Sure. I mean, we’re in the same class this year, so why wouldn’t I talk to her, right?”

 

“Of course. Especially about her parents,” Souji deadpanned while his eyes gleamed with mirth.

 

Daisuke stood up and stretched smoothly, grunting as his joints popped. “Enough about the girls, man. Isn’t there anything interesting going on in the city? Tales you can regale us with?”

 

“Like what? My life now’s pretty much the same as my life here. Just with fewer people to hang out with and more obligations at home.”

 

“It seems strange that you said you don’t know many people there,” Daisuke commented, looking skyward. “I mean, you were the name on everyone’s lips for months, whether it was in track and field, band, home ec, or exam scores. What’s up with that?”

 

“Things work differently there,” Souji pointed out, also stretching. “You don’t get many transfer students here, nor a lot of stuff happening in general, so the news sticks. Kofu’s an hour’s train ride from Tokyo – no one stays in their parent school for very long. Add to the fact that Yasogami has about a sixth of the number of students as Sundaikofu High, and I’m just another student in the system.”

 

“They’d probably feel differently if they knew about some of your connections, like to the Detective Prince or Risette. Even city students would be into that sorta thing, right?” Kou pointed out.

 

“Maybe. You’re probably right. If they knew.”

 

“And you’re not gonna tell them?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Sounds like you’re not trying very hard there, Souji,” Daisuke observed critically. “You’re cutting away from the chance of spreading out in this new school. It’s not my business, but it sounds like you’re trying to be a ghost.”

 

Busted. Kou and Daisuke were as honest as the Investigation Team members, but harder to fool with his personal life. They saw a clearer picture of him, less cluttered and involved as those who knew about Shadows and Personas. Souji sighed. “There are reasons,” he told them finally. “They’re long, complicated, and pretty stupid ones, but reasons nonetheless.”

 

“Don’t feel like talking about it?”

 

It was the same reason now as it had always been – friends wanted to visit, and he enjoyed being a host. But not at his house, not with his parents. So the reasons weren’t long or complicated. They were short, simple, and concise. But no less stupid. “Nah. Some other time.”

 

“Cool. So, you hungry?”

 

Kou released a startled laugh. “Dude, we had breakfast like a few hours ago. And you’ve just been sitting there. How can you be hungry?”

 

“It’s tiring, keeping all those numbers together. And the way you guys ran made me burn calories just watching.”

 

“There’s always Aiya!”Kou mentioned, pretending to think about it.

 

“No,” Souji told them. “Making breakfast was a stretch; I’m not ponying up for lunch for three.”

 

“But-but! When was the last time you’ve had Aiya!?”

 

“No. Yukiko and Chie and the gang are going to be at the Inn today. There should be enough food from yesterday to cook for everyone. We can make something from those, if you want.”

 

“You’re serious? What kinda food?”

 

“Meats, rice dishes, salad. The usual. They decided I needed a celebration for coming back so soon. There was way more than we could eat yesterday, so...”

 

“Sounds good to me!” Daisuke cheered, turning toward the bus stop.

 

“Uh, out of curiosity, the food’s already made, right? Someone’s cooked it all?” Kou asked a touch uneasily.

 

“Not yesterday. We did the cooking on-site. Why?” Souji cocked an eyebrow.

 

“It’s just... You’re not gonna make us cook it, right? I mean, we could ask Amagi-san for that.”

 

Souji had to suppress the laugh that choked his windpipe that instant. He covered his mouth to hold the mirth in, letting a few chuckles through despite himself. “You’re welcome to try what she makes, if you want,” he finally said, “but she’s still learning.”

 

“Oh. Well, someone in the group can cook, right?”

 

“You’ll see,” Souji promised. “But we can stop by your house on the way there – I made breakfast, so you’re buying the bus tickets.”

 

\--

 

They stopped by Kou’s house so the cobalt-haired teen could change and grab his wallet, and Souji’s for the same reason, and by the time they’d made the arrangements and gotten to the Inn, it was past noon. Most of the team was there to greet them, and Yukiko led them to an area away from the normal guest quarters so their discussions wouldn’t bother any customers. The area also had the benefit of being near a smaller kitchen, empty of staff, and the leftover supplies from the night before were piled on the counters. After the introductions were made, she vanished back into the Inn, saying she needed to talk to her parents about something. Shooing her through the door, Souji played the part of a host instinctively, pointing Kou and Daisuke to the team members they might not know, namely Kanji, Naoto, and Teddie, and starting conversations that he knew would take off on their own. Topics like Teddie’s apparent success with the girls at Yasogami and Kanji’s growing recognition among the home handicrafts club.

 

After the group’s discussions took off on their own, he’d rolled up his sleeves and set to preparing lunch, almost missing Kou’s question: “I heard someone’d be cooking lunch, Satonaka-san – are you going to help Souji?” Yosuke’s loud protestations had sparked a quarrel that traveled down the same paths as the one the day before. Souji shook his head and set the yakitori sticks to cook, starting in on the kimchi he’d neglected to make before. The door slid open behind him, and, without turning, he called “don’t let Yosuke get to you, Chie. I’m fine in here.”

 

“I’m sure Chie-san would appreciate that,” a deeper voice, tinged with amusement, assured him. He glanced over his shoulder to see Naoto resting against the counter near the door, judiciously looking over his preparations. Despite her staid sense of decorum, he quirked a smile when he noticed her sniff deeply at some of the dishes and look closely at others.

 

“Needed a break?”

 

“Yesterday was my break – today is research. If you don’t mind, Senpai.”

 

Souji shrugged. She washed her hands and, bit by bit, he familiarized her with bits and pieces of his recipes. She asked questions whenever he had a moment, and when she looked puzzled - easy enough to note since her mouth quirked and nose twitched when it happened - he took the time to take her through the step one at a time. It wasn’t what he’d planned when he woke up that morning, but the movements and words came easily, and the spark of understanding in her eyes, and the smells that wafted from the stove and oven, kept a smile pulling at his lips.

 

It was different from his conversation with Yosuke or time spent with Nanako and Dojima. There was a space between him and Naoto where things could be, and often were, left unsaid. They worked around each other smoothly, conversing as much with gestures and inclinations as with words, and while Souji was curious what “research” meant, he left it well enough alone while they worked and, finally, announced to the others that the food was ready. Dishes were handed out, food was eaten, and compliments abounded (particularly from Kou and Daisuke, who’d taken seats near Chie and Yosuke, and Kanji, who’d looked furtively, speculatively, at Naoto from the tables) and Souji rested against the counter – privilege of the chef – and picked at his own dish while Naoto had opted to stay nearby rather than join the group. “Have you considered becoming a chef, Senpai?” she, looking decidedly cute in rolled-up sleeves and apron and hair kerchief, inquired, savouring a yakitori stick, dripping in mirin seasoning.

 

“Too much financial overhead,” he replied, not looking up from his udon bowl.

 

“A shame, then.”

 

“Hardly. If I were a chef I’d have to charge everyone for the effort I put into this. And I’d hate to take myself that seriously.”

 

She chuckled around the chicken and skewer. “I suppose so.”

 

“You mentioned research before,” he asked suddenly, stirring the broth in his bowl around. “Was there something specific on your mind?”

 

He knew he’d hit on something when she looked startled, then blushed, and then glanced away from him. Unconsciously, her foot started twitching against the counter base. “It’s... it’s just that it seems like a useful skill to have.”

 

“It is.”

 

“And Yakushiji-san shouldn’t be expected to handle all the chores around the house. Especially if he goes on vacation or visits relatives.”

 

“That makes sense.”

 

“Is it so strange, Senpai?”

 

“Not at all. It’s just surprising; Chie and Yukiko have known me since I moved here and they’ve never asked for help or advice.”

 

“That... not to offend them, but that may explain some things.”

 

Souji chuckled. “You can say it, Naoto – it explains a lot about their cooking. Though it does make me wonder how they make what they do. I doubt I could make intentionally what they make by accident. Not that I’d want to, but it is impressive in its own way.”

 

“May I ask who taught you to cook, Senpai?”

 

“No one.”

 

She let the skewer drop slightly, raising an eyebrow curiously. “No one?”

 

“I didn’t have a teacher or take classes, if that’s what you’re asking. I started when I was younger.” She motioned for him to continue, and he leaned back a glanced upwards, wistful memories creeping forward like sluggish fog. “We spent a lot of time traveling when I was younger. One parent or the other was always getting transferred. That meant someone was pulling an all-nighter and the other ordered take-out. Which was fine when the other one was around, but then they both started taking on the hours, and I was... oh about 8 or 9 then. So they hired caretakers and house sitters for my sake, and one of them taught me the basics. I started as a means of doing something other than homework, and afterwards I’d watch cooking shows or ask the people who took care of me for recipes. And after that it just... kept going. So no one in particular taught me how to cook. It’s just something I do.” A contemplative silence fell over them and Souji let his mind’s eye linger on those days. The quiet solitude, the experiments, the hopeful attempts for some kind of recognition and the regular disappointment. “Hm. It’s strange,” he murmured. “I’ve never really talked about that to anyone before.” He’d never had the heart to tell Nanako that he’d learned to cook in isolation, without a personal drive behind it, when she worked hard to make what she did. He’d probably never tell Rise or Chie or Yukiko that either, for much the same reason. It didn’t seem fair.

 

“I hope the question didn’t bring up unpleasant memories, Senpai,” she said finally, quiet in the hushed kitchen.

 

He brushed it off with a grunt and went back to his udon. “It is what it is, and it was what it was. That’s life. Still, if you’re interested in learning, let me know.”

 

“Thank you, Senpai. I’ll do that.”

 

“It’s a good ice-breaker when you’re meeting people,” he volunteered. “Mostly with adults, mind you – teenagers don’t usually know how to cook like this.”

 

“I see.” Her tone was level and calm, tranquil and almost sleepy in its comfort.

 

“Good if you’re on a date, too,” he fired off nonchalantly, strategically waiting until she’d swallowed first.

 

And he was glad he did – she went red and pale and jerked like she’d sat on a hot stove, eyes a little wild. “W-what?! Senpai, where did that come from?!”

 

He stared back calmly, nearly biting his tongue to keep the smile off his face. “It’s just advice, Naoto. Lunch dates with friends need to be worked up to, and food preference works great for starting a conversation. And even if the person isn’t that close, it’s good to be able to cook your own food for trips, like with family. Cheaper, too.”

 

“Senpai,” she choked out, regaining a degree of control faster than he’d expected, though still looking rattled, “what was the purpose of that anecdote?”

 

“Advice. And experience.”

 

“Are you implying anything else?”

 

“Not at all,” he responded, face as smooth as the bowl in his hand and concealing the gears turning in his head. “I just know you’ve had problems finding common ground to talk about with other students. Thought I’d help.”

 

“While the thought is touching, and the advice appreciated, I don’t know if that was necessary.”

 

He shrugged. “Yosuke and I talked last night, and he made a good point: that the murder case if over, and it’s alright to do things people our age do all the time. And you never know what might come along, Naoto.”

 

“A... valid point. Though I don’t know that I can expect such things in the near future.”

 

“Last April, I thought that too,” Souji pointed out.

 

“Hm. I will think on it. Though I doubt I will be talking to other students about cooking until I am more proficient.”

 

Souji chuckled. _Enough teasing_ , he thought. She’d pick up on his suggestions if he pushed any further. “Then you’re already ahead of the others. You’ll be fine.”

 

They finished their meals in silence and cleaned what dishes they wouldn’t need for more cooking, nearly done when they heard Yosuke growl in frustration nearby. Souji’s feet were taking him to the doorway before he even thought about it, and Naoto was right next to him, once again with her hat. What they saw elicited an amused sigh from Souji and a concealed laugh from the Detective Prince.

 

Teddie was talking to one of the Inn staff, Kasai-san, Souji knew, and was evidently trying the same tricks he’d used to filch samples at Junes during the summer. Talking in a voice as smooth as cognac and measured as a marching band, he was driving the older woman breathless with barely restrained, and surprisingly girly, giggles. Souji cleared his throat, quirking an eyebrow when Teddie turned to him. “I hope you weren’t keeping Kasai-san from anything important, Teddie.”

 

“Of course not, Sensei! She was looking for you, but said that it could wait when I said you and Nao-chan were having a discussion. And it would have been rude not to keep her company!”

 

“I’m _sure_ that was the first thing on your mind,” Yosuke muttered.

 

“Well, thank you for keeping her company,” Souji mentioned, now looking to the Inn employee, “but what did she need?”

 

“Yukiko-chan’s parents were wondering if you had any plans this evening, Souji-kun,” she informed him calmly, face as kindly as when he saw her at the shrine.

 

“Nothing yet,” he replied.

 

“Then they would like to meet you. Here, at 9pm.”

 

That shouldn’t have surprised him – he knew he’d delayed meeting her parents far too long as it was – but the abruptness of the request caught him flat-footed. “Uh, sure. I’d be glad to,” he told her when he got his voice back.

 

“Yukiko-chan will meet you at the front desk then.”

 

“Should I bring anything as a gift or offering? Is there a special dress code?”

 

“Just yourself, they said.” She noticed the bewildered look on his face, and gave an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry yourself over it. They know how important you are to Yukiko-chan, and that will help more than you know. But, I must be getting back. Excuse me.”

 

“Of course.” The words were wooden, blocky, and delivered on autopilot. The table behind him, holding the Team members and Kou and Daisuke, was silent until the moment the door _clack_ ed shut. Then the questions began. What were her parents like? Why hadn’t they met or seen them yet? How would they react to Souji courting their daughter and only child?

 

Souji himself was mostly deaf to the theories and conjecture that whizzed around him like leaves on the wind, turning to Chie only when she addressed for the second time. “So... Any advice?”

 

She smirked and took over the conversation. While the others eventually broke off and raided the food plates again or struck up their own discussions, Souji was hanging on every word.

 

\--

 

He left the Inn with Chie shortly after, taking to a quieter place for their discussion. The information was expected, comforting, and aggravating all at once. He learned that Yukiko’s parents doted on her, and wouldn’t tear into him too much if they thought she was happy. Furthermore, she was a perfect product of her parents, from her personality to her looks. But that was where the information stopped, and the aggravation began. When Souji asked what they were like, Chie wasn’t forthcoming. At first he thought she was toying with him, but she quickly assured him of the contrary. “It’s not like they don’t like me, but they’re hard people to explain. Their personalities, their looks, everything. Best I can say, go in expecting what you wouldn’t expect.”

 

The words ran through his head like horses on the track for the rest of the afternoon. Showered and cleaned, at once more alert than he’d been in days but wearing himself tired from pacing in front of the clock, he was more nervous than he could remember being in a long time. Nanako had watched, bemused and puzzled, as he’d picked at dinner and toyed with it – a novel sight, to say the least. Dojima, on the other hand, found the entire affair vastly amusing. He never said a word on the subject, never taunted or teased, but the wider-than-usual smirk and dancing glee in his eyes, half a step from exploding in full-out laughter, said it all.

 

The time came, and he met Chie halfway to the bus stop, her saying he might need the moral support. He took the ribbing well enough, frayed nerves and all, thankful that she was there, no matter what form her advice took.

 

The bus ride could have taken minutes or the entire night and following day – he didn’t remember it. Nor would he remember the walk to the Inn, the steps worn smooth by familiarity.

 

He did register opening the door with a deep, bracing breath, and seeing Yukiko standing near the front desk, no longer in kimono and obi, but rather in cardigan and skirt. They embraced smoothly (though Souji noticed the tremble in his hands), and the trio made their way deeper into the Inn, past the guest rooms and staff area into a section that felt slightly different. Not professionally brushed clean or tended to, but feeling more like where a family would live. As though the years and memories of the family residing within had soaked into the wood beams and sliding doors, tickling the senses with a hum or glow that Souji couldn’t place, but could not help but be aware of. It felt like a home, and a loving family.

 

“I’ll wait here,” Chie told them when they stopped outside a sliding door, resting in a chair nearby. “You’ll do fine,” she assured Souji when she saw his hesitance. He tried for a self-assured nod. He didn’t know if he succeeded. Yukiko took his hand and squeezed, and slid the door open.

 

Souji took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and followed Yukiko through the door, trying to quell the nest of butterflies stirring in his stomach. Expect what you aren’t expecting, Chie had said. What he saw both met his expectation, and couldn’t be further from them.

 

A tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair and skin the same shade as Souji’s stood, ramrod straight and clean-shaven, in an immaculate shirt and slacks near a table, already holding tea and cups, and chair in the middle of the room. His shoulders and arms were broad enough to block the bright moonlight coming through the window behind him, and dark eyes cut across the distance, sending sharp prickles up the younger man’s skin. At first Souji thought the man’s eyes were naturally that narrow, but revised the assumption within two steps – that was just how had he was being glared at.

 

Next to him stood a woman who Souji immediately identified as Yukiko’s mother, despite the obvious disparity in their appearances. Long brown hair tumbled in wide curls down a business blouse, accompanied by a long skirt. Hazel eyes set against tanned, light-golden skin and surrounded by long eyelashes, were placid and calm as they met his, immediately offsetting the vibes he was getting from Yukiko’s father. Still, her facial features caught his attention for just a moment more. High, almost delicate cheekbones, aquiline nose, and rosebud lips were a perfect mould of Yukiko’s, but they gave no indication of age – they could have belonged to a woman of 25 or 55. They were classical, elegant, and beautiful, but the edges of her eyes and the twist of her lips suggested a subtle strength and resilience he’d seen countless times before in her daughter.

 

“Mother, father, this is Souji,” Yukiko told them, stepping aside so they could better scrutinize him. Her mother blinked and gave a welcoming smile, and her father grunted and stared harder.

 

Souji gave his deepest, politest bow, but couldn’t help but think Yukiko was moving out of the line of cannon fire. “Souji Seta. It’s an honour.”

 

The woman came forward first, returning the bow. “Ryoko Amagi.” The voice was deeper and more vibrant than he expected, quiet but noticeable. It reminded him of his mother’s voice, only it was alive with emotions, both expressed and hidden, and washed over him like fine wine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

 

“Katsushiro Amagi,” the man rumbled in a voice Souji could feel travel down his spine and settle in his shoes. The man didn’t step forward, didn’t remove his hand (white-knuckled) from the back of the nearby chair, and gave only a sharp, shallow bow in return. “We’ve heard a great deal about you.”

 

That... was not comforting. Souji could feel the blood draining from his face and neck at the frigid welcome. No matter how civil Ryoko’s greeting or how calming Yukiko’s presence might be, he was starting to feel like a condemned criminal staring done the barrels of a firing squad. _Could’ve waited until I did something worth killing me for_ , some small part of his mind, the only part not stuttering and hitching like the caster of a bad public service announcement, muttered. Thankfully, either Yukiko noted his dilemma or caught her father’s tone and stepped closer to him. “Daddy, please be nice.”

 

“Of course.” Clipped and curt and not taking his eyes off the teen for a second.

 

Souji’s brain, recovering from the initial stages of “Meeting the Parents”, what he was currently comparing to eating glass and swallowing metal filings, kick-started and put forth his most charming smile. _Calm, fluid, untouchable. He can only kill you once._ “The pleasure is all mine. I’m sorry we haven’t had the chance to meet sooner.” He moved to the table, pulled out a chair for Yukiko, and took one for himself. All the while he hoped he didn’t appear as uneasy as he was feeling.

 

“Indeed?”

 

“Of course. It seems like I’ve met more of the Inn’s staff and associates from my encounters with Yukiko than her relatives, and I regret that it’s taken this long to correct that.”

 

“Then she never mentioned us? Or you didn’t ask?”

 

Souji’s smile never faltered. “More to say that the topic never came up on its own during the time I’ve known her. Chie’s mentioned you, of course, and Yukiko talks about the Inn all the time.”

 

“Ahhh, Chie,” Ryoko chuckled. “She’s as much family here as Yukiko is.”

 

“That was the impression I got as well, Amagi-san.”

 

“Please, Seta-kun, call me Ryoko. I don’t need to feel any older than I already do.”

 

“Of course, Ryoko-san.”

 

That drew another laugh from her, and a deeper glare from Katsushiro. “Ah, but this one at least has manners.” She took the time to pour and hand out the tea, preparing and sipping her own.

 

“Really? May I ask, Seta-san, why it’s taken so long for us to meet you?” the Amagi patriarch inquired, eyes like granite.

 

“Please Amagi-san, Seta-san is my mother or father. Seta-kun is fine.”

 

“Of course, Seta-san. Your answer?”

 

Now the smile dimmed to a determined line, his face as neutral and blank as a wooden mask and fingers threaded together on the table. He took his time composing the answer, meeting the man’s gaze and noting Yukiko clenching a small fist and shaking her head. “Until shortly before last Christmas, Yukiko and I were just friends. I had plans to return to Kofu in March, and thus meeting her family was not a priority.”

 

“So what changed?”

 

“Daddy, stop,” Yukiko choked out finally, half-rising from her seat. “Souji’s not like the other boys you’ve met, and he doesn’t deserve this. He’s been kind and polite all the time I’ve known him, and he didn’t once object to meeting you. Isn’t it enough that he’s here now?”

 

Souji, again, waited to compose an answer. He did, however, swiftly reach his hand under the table and lace his fingers with Yukiko’s. When she gave an unsure glance, he smiled and nodded, bringing her back into her seat. Then he turned his gaze back to Katsushiro’s, not backing down. “There are many factors and variables I could name, I suppose, in answering that question. But the word that sums it up best would be ‘perspective’.”

 

Yukiko’s father’s glare was turning positively murderous at the teens’ laced fingers. Ryoko, sipping at her tea, cocked an eyebrow. “Perspective?”

 

“Before Yukiko and I... expanded on our relationship, I thought of her parents the same as I would those of any of my friends in Inaba. Yosuke, Kanji, Chie, and so on. Of all them, incidentally, you are among the first set of parents I’ve met. When things changed, between the murder investigation and my own family affairs, there were other matters that needed my attention, and the thought of meeting you fell to the wayside. Since then, Yukiko’s made efforts to arrange this meeting, but between the distance and the timing, it never worked.”

 

“And so here you are.”

 

“Yes. I’ll admit that, until now, meeting the parents of my friends wasn’t and isn’t a high priority. Hence the matter of perspective – Yukiko isn’t just a friend to me.”

 

“We’ve heard something similar from the inn staff,” Ryoko mentioned, face composed and unchanged despite the black glares coming from her husband. “To be fair, I would have preferred to meet you before now, given how much Kasai and the others have talked about you.”

 

“I wasn’t aware that they were.”

Ryoko chuckled behind a daintily-raised hand. “Women at work will always find a way to chat, Seta-kun, especially if the topic happens to be men, or Yukiko.” She smiled fondly at her daughter, who returned the gesture a touch bashfully.

 

“They do seem to be fond of-“

 

“A question, Seta-san.” Katsushiro pried his fingers off the table and drummed them evenly on the table. “You mentioned your relationship with my daughter, and how it was changing. Where do you consider it now and in the future?”

 

The table went silent. Ryoko was as unflappable as ever, Yukiko looked caught between protesting the question and genuine curiosity, all the while tightening her hold on Souji’s hand, and Souji himself thought over the question and the implication of his answer. “As for where it is now, I like to think Yukiko is my girlfriend,” he replied finally. “As for where it’s going in the future, I don’t know yet. For the moment, I intend to graduate high school. After that, I’ll get into university. During that time, I plan to take whatever time I have and make what Yukiko and I have work.”

 

Ryoko looked mildly intrigued, but Katsushiro’s glare didn’t falter. “You don’t know where you will be going to university?”

 

“I misspoke. It is not to say that I do not have any plans yet, but more that what plans I have are fluid. The past year in Inaba has altered what path I thought I was going to take in life, and so I am making changes to where I’m going as a result.”

 

“What triggered such a strong change?” Ryoko inquired.

 

“Or was it a strong one at all?” Katsushiro put in, lips in a grim half-smile. Both Yukiko and Souji paused at the question, and Katsushiro mistook the hesitance as the answer to his question. “Does that mean your plans were never concrete to begin with, Seta-san?”

 

Souji stiffened. That was going too far. He met the man’s glare with one of his own and leaned forward in his seat. “With respect sir, you have no idea what I went through in that time,” he almost growled. “And I won’t listen to you disparage my efforts at the time.”

 

“Souji’s not as weak-willed as you’re insinuating, Daddy,” Yukiko told the man firmly, her eyes and voice hard. “It had to do with the murder cases, and he was closely tied to them because of Dojima-san’s involvement.”

 

Katsushiro turned his glare to his daughter, but seemed to lose intensity in the face of her defiance. “We can discuss that later,” he conceded. “Is my daughter a priority to you then, Seta-san?”

 

“She is,” Souji replied immediately. “No matter where I end up in life, or where I might be living or working, Yukiko will always be important to me.” He felt her squeeze his hand under the table at his words.

 

“Always?”

 

“Yes, Amagi-san. Always.”

 

“Hmph. We’ll see if your actions back up your words. However, I am curious about you personally, Seta-san.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“You can tell a lot about someone by how they speak of themselves. And while you speak well about your education and plans, I know very little about you as a person. So tell me something about your background.”

 

“Please Daddy, can’t that wait?”

 

“I don’t mind,” Souji replied. “After all, there might not be a better chance for it. What do you wish to know?”

 

“What do your parents do? I expect they know of Yukiko. What is your family’s background?”

 

“My parents are in corporate finance. They’ve been at it for as long as I can remember. We’ve been everywhere in Japan for the sake of their work, and they recently returned from the States, also for business. And you know my uncle Dojima.”

 

Both Ryoko and Katsushiro eyed him speculatively, she intrigued while he dropped some of the daggers in his voice. “Is that so?”

 

“Yes. If you’d like, I could bore you with all sorts of talk about finance plans and investment connections, from domestic to international. That was actually why I was late in getting here – I was attending a meeting with them.”

 

“Do they enjoy their work?”

 

“They live for it. Literally. I think my father would throw himself out a window if he were somehow unable to work with the numbers.”

 

“But you don’t. You sound familiar with the field, after all, but not very interested.”

 

Souji shifted in his chair. The questions were getting close to some uncomfortable topics for him. “Finances have been part of my life for as long as I can remember. I’m not convinced they didn’t line my crib with monthly GDP reports and interest deal portfolios. So, yes, I guess I know my way around them, but their path in life won’t be mine.”

 

“And your parents? What do they think of your decision? Or of Yukiko? What are they like?” Souji didn’t answer, instead glancing out the window and scratching a cheek with his hand. “Seta-san?”

 

“Souji doesn’t talk about his parents much,” Yukiko supplied, curiosity written across her face.

 

“It’s not a happy topic for me,” he clarified, eyes and face as distant as Pluto then.

 

Ryoko quirked an eyebrow. “Is it something someone can help with?”

 

“No. We get along well enough, I suppose, but we don’t talk much. As for the details... that is, with respect, a question I’m not answering.”

 

“Yukiko might be more involved in the matter in the future; you understand our concern.”

 

“I do. Really, I do. And someday the circumstances might change. But as for now, my parents are a topic I won’t be discussing.”

 

“And if I insist?” Katsushiro inquired.

 

Souji chuckled darkly, a brief glimpse into a wound so old and jagged that he didn’t remember not having it before his mask was back on. “Then I’d say that you’re not someone I know well enough to discuss the matter with, sir. No matter your vested interest in the topic.”

 

Ryoko cut her husband, itching to push the envelope, off. “You’ll tell us if any of these matters could affect Yukiko, correct?”

 

“You have my word.”

 

“Then, for now, that will suffice.”

 

“Thank you for understanding.”

 

“Would you excuse us, Seta-kun? We’d like to speak to Yukiko now.”

 

“Of course.” Souji rose and bowed politely, nodding to Yukiko and squeezing her shoulder in support, before slipping out the door quietly.

 

He made it to the next room before his foundation of stubborn determination broke under the strain and stress like sand. His calm poise cracked and spidered liked a car windshield. He staggered back against the wall, eyes staring blindly at the floor while a hand, shaking visibly, came up to his forehead. His breathing became short, clipped, and he noticed for the first time how fast his heart was beating. It was all making him light-headed.

 

“Now that’s familiar,” Chie’s voice commented. He jerked up shakily, looking around the room in a rush. She was leaning against the table, about ten feet away, wry smile and cocked eyebrow adorning her face. “I felt the same way when I met Yukiko’s parents for the first time. Her dad still gives me chills sometimes.” She gestured at the nearby chair and took the other herself. When he collapsed across from her with an explosive sigh, she grinned and glanced him over. “You’re looking alright, all things considered. I expected Katsushiro-san to chew you up a lot more.”

 

He laughed weakly. “Appearances can be deceiving. I think I left six years of my life and half my hide in that room.”

 

“I guess he’d be a lot more scary with you than me, considering how much Yukiko talks about you.”

 

“I didn’t think her parents were like... that. He’s a lot bigger than I thought he’d be. And I didn’t know what to make of Ryoko-san, either.”

 

“I can relate to that. She’s interesting, and you definitely want her on your side.”

 

“When Yukiko mentioned that her mother became sick last April, right when the murder cases started, I expected someone frail or delicate. Ryoko-san doesn’t seem like either of those to me.”

 

“Yeah, I think a lot of people think that about her, especially when you see how traditional Yukiko turned out and how imposing Katsushiro-san is. She uses it to her advantage.”

 

“Sounds like an interesting story.”

 

“You’re telling me. Dunno what it is though. Yukiko’s never mentioned it, and Ryoko-san doesn’t talk about herself that much. At least not to me. I mean, I’ve heard that her getting sick back then was more because of an allergy or problems outside the Inn’s concerns than Ms. Yamano and the news crews.”

 

“Curious.”

 

“Yep. So, when’re you leaving?”

 

“Monday night, maybe later. I’ve got a project to take care of.”

 

“Homework?”

 

“The stipulation from my father, in return for him letting me come here. It’s a finance portfolio. Pretty boring to most, but he lives for that sorta stuff.”

 

“Finances in Inaba? Where would you go for something like that?”

 

“The Inn, Tatsumi Textiles, maybe the Konishi Liquor Store,” Souji shrugged. “It’s pretty easy, but tedious. And getting the information might be tricky.”

 

“Probably. I’ll be impressed if you get much at all, honestly.”

 

“You think it’ll be that bad?”

 

“I don’t know what a finance portfolio looks like, but I think the Konishi family would be a hard sell to get any finance information. I mean, they’re just like a lot of those small businesses that went under when Junes set up shop. I don’t think saying you’re doing this for the benefit of a big-city CEO, or whatever your dad is, is going to go over well.”

 

“I doubt he cares that much, Chie. I can’t see him coming halfway across the country for a few small business opportunities.”

 

“But are you sure? If not him, maybe someone else? Or someday down the line?”

 

Souji was startled at her insight and dogged tenacity, all the more so because they were good points he hadn’t considered yet. He chuckled softly and shook his head, cracking his neck in the process. “You’re really taking this seriously.”

 

“I just don’t want you to make a mistake that could badly affect the people here. If anything can do that, it’s money, y’know?”

 

“A fair point. I’ll be careful.”

 

“Good.”

 

The door slid open and Yukiko walked out, a blush on her cheeks, a twitching smile on her lips, and her eyes aglow. She came to the table while the other two looked up expectantly.

 

“And?” Souji asked, a touch breathless.

 

She nodded happily, the sentiment radiating from her in waves that were almost tangible. “Daddy hasn’t accepted the idea completely, and it’s going to take a while to win him over, if it happens at all. But he said you were the ‘least objectionable’ choice so far, and my mother likes you. She said she’d talk to him.”

 

Souji’s breath, pent-up since she came through the door, left him so quickly that he deflated in relief, more weight easing from his shoulders. “That’s great.”

 

“See?” Chie pointed out with a jaunty wink. “Good person to have on your side.”

 

Souji rose from his chair and rested his hands on Yukiko’s waist in a loose embrace, gazing into those eyes, bright like rain pools under a neon lights, and let a slanted smile come to his face. “So,” he asked quietly, “does that make it official?”

 

Yukiko jerked, her face turning a bit wild, panicked. “O-official?!”

 

Souji’s next words were interrupted by Chie, who’d shot up from her chair with a disgusted sigh. “Okay, there’s only so many things you can say next, and the sap rolling off you two is disgusting. Let me get out of your way. Please.”

 

He chuckled, casting an arch look at the martial artist. “Not curious? That’s not like you.”

 

“Plenty curious. But the vibes I’m getting are driving me nuts. You two are so sugary that I’m gonna be sick.”

 

“It’s called a ‘relationship’, Chie.”

 

“Peh, whatever,” she muttered as she headed for the other door.

 

She twisted it open, but not before Souji’s eyes narrowed gleefully. “Give it a try. I know Yosuke’s free if you want to experiment.”

 

She stiffened, turned, bent, and twisted all at once. The result was a narrowly-avoided face plant into the door frame before she whirled around, eyes flashing. “Wh-what!? You think me and Yosuke- Ew, not on your life!”

 

“I think you two would do well together. You’re always fighting, after all. Remember how long you two argued over Teddie’s clothes?”

 

“And you think that’s a good thing?”

 

“Sure. Relationships need a little fire to keep them going, and if that time was any indication, then-“

 

“Ugh! No! NO! Don’t EVER go there! I’m gone!”

 

“But wait-“ the door slammed “-I’ve got more examples!” His response was shouted through the door, the words indistinct but the sentiment as clear as glass. Souji couldn’t hold in his laughter, and Yukiko giggled next to him, her earlier consternation broken. When their mirth subsided enough, he took his seat while Yukiko took Chie’s, smiles and chuckles still bleeding through. “Anyway.”

 

“So,” Yukiko began, starting to fidget again, “what did you want to make official?”

 

Souji smiled, contemplating how much he could drag the moment out, but then deciding that he’d had enough fun for the moment. “If you’re officially my girlfriend, now that I’ve met your parents.”

 

That diffused the tension and made her smile more than he’d ever seen before. It was wide and lopsided and a little goofy, but made for a beautiful sight in its honest expression. “I’d like that.” She reached for his hand across the table, and he let her turn it over and lightly stroke the leather. He felt his lips mirror hers, knew that he wore an identical silly smile, and couldn’t bring himself to care. “So, about those other things we talked about...” she began after what could have been a few minutes or a few hours of quiet basking.

 

Souji covered her hand with his spare one, lightly drawing on her palm and causing her to giggle and close her fingers reflexively. His words were cut off when the door slid open and Katsushiro and Ryoko came out. Yukiko’s father’s glare raked over his skin like hot coals when he saw their hands entwined, while Ryoko gave him with a calm, gracious smile. Souji straightened, but moved neither arm nor hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Seta-san,” Katsushiro told him in a clipped tone. “I hope to see you again. Good night.”

 

Now Souji did let go of Yukiko’s hand, rose to his feet and bowed respectfully. “Good night, Amagi-san. The pleasure was mine.” The Amagi patriarch nodded stiffly and swept past them.

 

Ryoko bowed politely and embraced her daughter before heading for the door, but turned before exiting the room. “Don’t stay up too late, Yukiko. I’m sure Seta-kun has matters to see to before he goes back to the city.”

 

“Of course,” both teens replied.

 

After she left, Yukiko stood up from her chair and pushed it in before turning to him, eyes happy, lips turned up, and a peaceful set to her features. “Walk me to my room?”

 

There was no other answer to give.

 

\--

The hallways were dimly lit, partially by the lights at set intervals and partially by the full moon outside. Yukiko led and Souji followed, comforted by the silence. When she stopped at her door, Souji nodded and turned to leave, already pondering how he was going to explain returning home so late to Dojima, when small, cool hands grasped his wrist, stopping him. When he turned questioningly to Yukiko, her blush was apparent even in the low light and leeched colour. But his curiosity froze in place when she whispered “come inside? Just for a bit.”

 

His brain seized like a car engine blowing its pistons clear through the hood. His heart rate tripled, his ears kept repeating those words a hundred times a second, and he didn’t have the faculties to wonder what his face must have looked like. Either it hadn’t changed at all, or was perfectly showing his incredulity, because she kept looking at him expectantly. Finally, after an unknown number of minutes, he choked out “um, what do- I mean, how would-“ Before he made a bigger idiot out of himself, he bit his tongue and took several deep breaths. “Are you sure?” he asked finally.

 

Her nod was small but decisive. “I want to spend time with you, away from the others. That’s what boys do with their girlfriends, right?” Her voice was low and shook with the effort it took to push the words out. When he thought of his answers to her father’s questions earlier and how he’d felt like he were made of thin sticks and paper, he felt humbled at what must have been a daunting step for her.

 

“Uh... Well, I suppose so,” he murmured, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll have to slip out later though. Gods know what would happen if your dad caught me here.”

 

“I’ll talk to Daddy about you soon,” she supplied, still holding his wrist hopefully. “Please?”

 

He caved. She turned her dark eyes toward him, glistening in the moonlight and full to the brim with emotion, a picture that would feature extensively in his dreams afterwards, and what concern he felt for his own wellbeing at her father’s hands wavered and flowed away. He nodded and followed her in, gently sliding the door closed behind them as she turned the lights on, swiftly dimming them when he winced sharply.

 

The first thing he noticed about her room was the feel and air it held, the sights similar to his own in Kofu. The studying desk with tacked-up papers and sticky notes and ordered pens and pencils, a bookshelf with carefully categorized books, ranging from cooking leaflets to fashion sundries to advanced textbooks to tea ceremony instructions (and filed, he noted on a closer glance, by subject, and then alphabetically by author), and a cushy reading chair, low table, and folded-up futon. It was larger than what he was used to, and more richly-furnished, but didn’t feel alien or oppressive to him. Instead the smell of tea leaves and ink and paper and that scent that was distinctly Yukiko, like freshly-clipped herbs and new frost, was as welcoming as an embrace.

 

A chest of drawers and a walk-in closet were across the room, a school uniform set aside for after the weekend, and a set of rotating magnetic rings decorated the desk surface. What surprised him, and really shouldn’t have, when he thought about it, was the signed poster from Rise on her wall, a miniature doll set from Kanji, and the numerous picture frames scattered about on the desk and table and chest. Many of her and Chie or her family, several of the Investigation Team, and the group photo taken before he left in March. “Make yourself at home,” she murmured, bending down to lay out the futon. At any other time he might have helped her, but the photos grabbed his attention and pulled him forward.

 

They felt like a kaleidoscope of her life. Most were of her in the past five or so years, as recent as the vacation he family had gotten back from only a few weeks ago. But some were older. One of her and Chie and a small brown dog, apparently after Yukiko had been unable to keep it and Chie had adopted it on the spot. Another of her and Kanji, both much younger, poring over a bolt of cloth, absorbed in the rulers and diagrams scattered about. And one of her early adolescence in front of a large temple with her parents, sakura blossoms scattered everywhere. The scene looked familiar and tugged at the strings of his memory. “Kyoto?” he asked, pointing at the photo.

 

Yukiko finished setting up the futon and glanced over. “Ah, yes. I was about thirteen or fourteen then. You recognize the temple?”

 

“Vaguely. I think I was there, or at one similar to it, when I was young. During one of my father’s business trips when I was too young to stay home alone.”

 

“I still remember that trip. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many temples and hot springs in one area. And the entire city smelled of cherry blossoms.”

 

“It’s a beautiful picture.” And it was. Katsushiro, almost unrecognizable without his scowl, was smiling as his daughter waved at the camera while Ryoko, looking entirely in her element in a seasonal summer dress, was laughing from the side. It had the feeling of a happy family, of people bound together out of love. It struck him, before he shook the feeling off, how vacant part of him felt; he didn’t have pictures of the trips he’d taken with his parents. Those had been business trips, not vacations, and the memories of one place melded with countless others. Then he slammed the door on that stream of thought. _Stop it. You’re in your girlfriend’s room, and you’re getting maudlin over the past._ “Your father looks different.”

 

Yukiko came over to his side, wrapping an arm around his. “Daddy gets that a lot. He’s always been like that whenever there’s a boy involved in my life, whether I like it or not. I hope you weren’t put off earlier.”

 

The man scared him, no two ways around it. And that wasn’t easy anymore. Still, Souji put on a carefree smile and chuckled. “I’m fine. See? No bite marks or bleeding.”

 

She snickered. “Good.” Her next words were cut off by a yawn, too big to conceal behind a hand or wrist.

 

Souji smirked and nudged her toward the futon. “I think that about settles it. We’ve had a long day, and I need to think of what to tell Dojima in the morning.” She seemed reluctant, holding his arm tighter. Souji caught the edges of indecision and sadness on her face. “I’ll stay for a while yet. There’s something I wanted to ask you before I leave.”

 

She nodded at last and padded over to her closet, glancing back with red-dusted cheeks. “Um...”

 

Souji caught sight of the sleepwear she was fingering and felt a similar blush creep up his neck. _Of course she’d need to change. Why didn’t you think of that?_ “I can wait outside if you’d like.” He was outside her room moments after she nodded. His palms were clammy against his gloves, and he had to work hard to banish the thought of his girlfriend changing only a door away. Her slender arms, long legs, graceful neck... _Focus_ , he berated himself. _Some other time, but you just met her parents today - don’t go borrowing trouble._ His calm control, so long an asset and boon in everything he did, was clearly on vacation. Or perhaps it was the unusual surroundings of the Inn, or Inaba as a whole, that was throwing him off-centre. Or, maybe, that was life – always changing and forcing people to adapt. Either way, the routine of Kofu and his parents was being thrown down the side of Mt. Fuji and forgotten like the day’s usual wind direction. It was harder and harder to maintain his focus these days, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Part of him thrived on the change, no doubt there, but-

 

She cleared her throat from the other side of the door and cracked it open, stepping back as he slipped through. The sight that awaited him stole his breath. As with everything Yukiko wore, it radiated style, propriety, poise, and the perfect balance between function and form. A loose sleeping yukata, cinched at the waist, woven from a darker red than her usual cardigan, sleeves to the wrist and the bottom at the knees. He spied a t-shirt beneath the neckline, and her feet were bare. He never noticed how cute her toes and ankles were, he thought absently. The edges were dark, almost black, and fine vines and real-as-life sakura branches in full bloom adorned the sleeves. “Wow.” Horribly inadequate and miles from his usual eloquence, but his vocabulary and silver tongue were evidently on vacation in Hawaii with his calm centre. Still, it wasn’t a total loss – she smiled and reached out to grab his hand, slowly drawing him toward her bedding and dimming the lights. He pushed against the wool gathering in his head and knelt at the side of her futon, leaning against the wall as she burrowed under the quilts, once again in possession of his arm.

 

“So,” she said, glancing up.

 

“So indeed.”

 

“What did you want to talk about?”

 

He rested his head back against the wall, tapping the fingers of his free hand against his knee. “About what we discussed with your parents,” he started, carefully drawing the words out, “what do you think?”

 

She cocked her head to the side, gears turning but missing and stuttering. “We talked about a lot tonight. What did you mean?”

 

“Us. The future. I felt like I took over the conversation and never asked you about it.”

 

“Mom and Daddy did want to talk to you,” she pointed out.

 

“Still.”

 

She looked into the gloom of her room. “I want this,” she murmured finally, nodding toward her room, the Inn, and perhaps Inaba itself. “I want you here, us together. I want to take over the Inn – I haven’t changed my mind on that. I want to complete school and go to university, to see what I’m capable of. But I want you there too. I feel like Christmas was yesterday, and Izanami... It went by so fast. Now you’re halfway across the country and making a new life while I’m still here. It’s...”

 

“Frustrating?”

 

“Yes. Definitely that. But I’m also worried. That you’ll get tied up there, that you’ll move on, or run into something I can’t help you with.”

 

“Hey.” Souji nudged her chin up, gazing into her eyes. “I’m not moving on from this. I promise that. I may have to change houses sometime, and this distance thing isn’t a short-term arrangement, but I’m _not_ going to forget about you, or anyone else here.”

 

She held up a hand. “Can you promise that though? Let me finish. Dojima-san’s mentioned your parents before, so I know they work a lot. That’s the life you’ve known, and they are your parents. Can you really say you’re not attracted to that lifestyle?”

 

Yes, he wanted to say. It was up his throat and on his tongue in an instant. Absolutely, certainly, or beyond any doubt. But they all broke on his clenched teeth. He remembered his conversation with Dojima the previous evening, and the words wouldn’t come out. Dojima’s comments came back, how his parents had been before he was born. It was easy to think that they’d always lived for their work, but no matter how much he denied that way of life, he also knew that he enjoyed the numbers. The formulas, the challenge posed by limits and varying rates, they were all familiar, and he’d be lying if he’d ever said that the life of finance lacked any lure to him. He was quiet for the longest time, looking around the gloom after breaking away from Yukiko’s eyes. Finally, hesitantly, he opened his mouth. “I can’t promise that finance won’t have any appeal to me. I don’t know if I can keep a promise like that, so I won’t make it. I can’t say that the next few years are going to be easy. In fact, I expect them not to be. But I will promise you this, Yukiko Amagi. I’ll do everything in my power to make it work with you. You said you wanted us together. So do I. Inaba’s the first place that’s ever felt like home, and I promise I’ll find a way back here.”

 

She looked up at him with a tremulous smile that grew with each sentence. When he finished, she leaned forward and hugged him. Not an embrace, or leaning in close, but a hard, full-on hug. “Thank you,” she murmured. He responded by rubbing her back in return, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. His hand caught in her hair, unrestrained, and he ran his fingers through it, soaking up the contact. She seemed about to say something when another yawn made its way out, infecting Souji this time.

 

“I think that’s enough, Yukiko.” He moved to get up, but she tugged on his arm.

 

“Just a little longer.”

 

“Any longer and I’m going to need a futon of my own.”

 

“Please?”

 

He met her eyes, tired and mellow and pleading, and sighed. His willpower, apparently, was AWOL too. “You win. Just a while.”

 

The time passed slowly as they caught up, hidden from the rest of the world in this little corner of the night. He talked about school and Takenaka and Toyama. She talked about the Investigation Team in greater detail than Nanako had, mentioned her growing role in the goings-on at the Inn, and discussed the various universities she was already researching. Four more times he offered to leave, his eyes drooping more and more. And each time she answered the same and held his arm tighter. Finally, when she’d trailed off mid-sentence, he made one last effort to pull away. He failed. The last words he heard before falling asleep were a groggy “jus’ a lit’l longer.”

 

\--

 

Waking up felt different this time. Normally he’d either snap awake between one heartbeat and the next, or wake up slowly but completely aware, often to take measure of the time and then doze off again. This was neither. It was a hazy state of consciousness that felt like he was aware of himself as he was waking up, or even slightly before. Like being underwater and floating to the surface, he felt the waking world approach and surround him, light and cloudy and muffled somehow. And then his eyes dragged open. His was disoriented at first, staring blearily at unfamiliar furniture, but the warm weight still snuggled in at his side reminded him of where he was, reassured that last night hadn’t been a dream. It distracted him from the pain in his neck and lower back and filled his head with the scent of her hair. He smiled when he noted that she hadn’t moved in the night. Either she was a still sleeper, or she didn’t want him to leave in the middle of the night. His ego, perhaps the only part of him that hadn’t abandoned him the night before, preened under the spotlight of the second option.

 

However, sore and stiff and self-assured as he felt, it all dimmed when he saw her in repose. Leaning against his arm (and the culprit for the small streak of dried saliva on his jacket sleeve) and sleeping softly, eyes closed and face relaxed, or even smiling a little, if his ego was to be believed. Her hair had drifted in front of her face like a thin curtain, resting against her cheek, and her nose twitched instinctively every now and again when the odd strand tickled her. Her warm weight at his side, the calming scent of her room, and the quiet all tugged at him, made him rest his head back and start to fall back asleep. So deep was his lethargic tranquility that, when he heard something shift nearby, he wrote it off as his foot sliding on the floor. But when it happened a second time, and he felt no twitching or friction on either appendage, he opened his eyes and turned slightly toward the door.

 

And froze solid, his heart seizing, when he saw the beginnings of light blue in the corner of his vision. There hadn’t been anything that shade of blue in the room last night. Nor any blue, he frantically recalled.

 

Slowly, painfully turning, he tilted his head upward. His eyes shifted just as slowly, taking in the fabric of a kimono, then a white obi, near which rested a hand on a hip, and finally-

 

-Meeting the impassive gaze of Ryoko Amagi, lips quirked and head tilted and hair loose, staring at him.

 

He couldn’t move. From the stiffness in his joints, the awkward position against the wall, and Yukiko still on his arm, blissfully asleep and unaware as Souji’s heart kick-started to three times the normal pace. Still, his mind worked clearly enough. Enough to blare one sentiment in his ears and drown out his racing pulse.

 

_Oh shit._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Souji had never contemplated his own heartbeat. He’d heard it hammering in his ears when he’d fought in the TV world, and some of the hits he’d taken during the investigation had sent it running, pouring blood out of torn flesh or tap dancing along cracked ribs. But in the silence of his own mind, even when trying to sleep, he’d never thought of just how it sounded.

 

Now, stunned stiff and pinned between the wall, Yukiko’s embrace, and Ryoko Amagi’s bronze-melting stare, he was singularly aware of his heartbeat. It didn’t make sense – why the quickened patter in his ears? Why not the cramps in his legs and lower back? Or the notable chill in his nose and fingers? Then, a second later, the answer came from a dry vault in the corner of his mind, trailing dust and rattling with laughter. _Maybe it’s because you’ve only got a few left._

 

“Seta-kun,” Ryoko greeted him, her voice low and toneless. “Good morning.” He didn’t have a response, only knowing, distantly, that if he looked a quarter as shocked and scared as he felt, she would have known that the suspense was a crueller punishment than finishing him off now. She didn’t look to be enjoying his plight, however. In fact, she didn’t look… anything. Despite the absence of the mildly pleased smile she’d worn the night before, she didn’t seem angry, annoyed, happy, or amused. All that registered to his fear-addled brain was the quiet intensity and tinge of curiosity.

 

She stared. He stayed still. Yukiko shifted on his arm. Seconds or days passed  - he couldn’t tell.

 

“I think some things need to be discussed, Seta-kun,” she told him finally, glancing over at her daughter. “Breakfast will be served in twenty minutes. Please don’t be late.” Kind as her words were, Souji knew he wasn’t being asked. He nodded, a jerky movement that cracked his vertebrae. She glanced once more at Yukiko, then slipped back out the door and gently slid it shut.

 

What followed was a surreal minute of… he didn’t know what. Vertigo hit him like an open fire hose, sending his thoughts in tumbles around his mind until he didn’t know where they started or ended. The room dimmed, and his little corner felt like it was on a water-filled roller coaster cart, tilting back and sideways and upside down until his rolling stomach was lodged in his throat, and he was briefly grateful he hadn’t had breakfast yet. Had that just happened? Was it a dream? A nightmare? No, even his worst nightmares didn’t make him feel this off-kilter. What did Ryoko-san think? Would she tell Amagi-san about it? Would she believe his side of the story? Would she listen? Or even care?

 

“Mmmm… g’morning,” he heard at his side, and his head snapped around so fast that it actually jerked his swimming vision into focus. Yukiko, eyes puffy with sleep, happily looked up at him like he was the only thing she saw in her room – which, given that she was wrapped around his arm, was probably accurate. The stark contrast of moods, from sleepy peace to frantic terror to calm, almost domestic, comfort did nothing for his frayed nerves, and all he could do as the storm raged was knock his head against the wall and groan. Yukiko scrubbed at her eyes and yawned adorably behind her hand (an action which would have had more effect on him had he not been occupied with thoughts of his own mortality), all the while holding onto his arm. When she heard his vocalized despair, she mistook it for pain – not an inaccurate assessment, though he wasn’t feeling very much right then – and backed off his arm, though didn’t let go.

 

When he did look down at her, he met an expression that was both happy and vulnerable, and happily vulnerable. She was without her usual armour, her red cardigan or barrette. He was seeing her before her daily mask went on, prepared for the roles she had to take on that day. The part of him that had sworn to help her in the TV world, that had reached out to her as she tested her wings afterward, and had trilled in joy as they became ‘more than friends’ revelled in this openness, in seeing her in a different light.

 

Sadly, most of him was still rebounding off the walls like a pinball in a machine, and what little remained of him returned her smile with one so brittle and hollow that it felt like his face was going to break and scatter all over the floor. “G’morning.” He didn’t know where the words came from.

 

“Thanks for staying last night.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Huh?”

 

She nudged his shoulder, and the pain finally registered. He hissed sharply. “That couldn’t’ve been comfortable.”

 

She misunderstood. The pain was welcome, a good distraction to his thoughts, scattered like children’s toys. He grunted in agreement. “I’ll be alright.”

 

“I suppose we should get up,” she murmured.

 

_Before her parents find out_ , he thought hysterically. It brought a wild grimace to his face, and he literally bit his tongue to hold back a laugh he was sure would only scare her. “Yeah.” He grunted as he rolled his neck and snapped his legs, sending cracks and pops through the room. “I’ll be outside.” When she glanced up in surprise, he gestured to her night clothes. When she didn’t let go, he gave a smile and chuckle that were marginally better than his first attempts. “I’ll be right outside, Yukiko. I’m not going far.” She didn’t let go at first, but then, slowly, pulled away from him. Had he been in a more stable mindset, her conflicted features and growing pout – also adorable - would have urged him to kiss her. As it was, he pushed himself to his feet drunkenly as pins and needles dug fiercely into his back and legs and, after looking both ways, slipped out of her room.

 

He stayed within sight of her door, but collapsed back against the wall and let the emotions run wild. Fear was mixed with fatigue and nausea, garnished with residual panic and topped off a thin slice of anger, all making for a rich cocktail of confusion. He didn’t know what Ryoko-san was going to do – surely she’d told Amagi-san by now. Was he going to lose Yukiko after their lives were gaining some semblance of normalcy? Where would that put him with Chie? Or Dojima? He hadn’t even called home the night before, so the savvy detective must have suspected at least something. Would he be angry? Appalled? Encouraging?

 

So many questions, so many answers, and no way to know which was right.

 

When the feelings began to pass, he set about making himself a bit more presentable. He hadn’t moved around very much in the night either, so his hair was good enough. He brushed at his shirt and straightened his jacket, trying to smooth the wrinkles out. It wouldn’t do to sit at the table looking like he’d spent the night in his clothes. No, not at all.

 

_Clack_. He turned to see Yukiko, dressed in her usual reds and blacks, looking at him speculatively. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” He winced inwardly – those monosyllabic answers sounded thin as paper. “Hey-“

 

“Yukiko. You’re going to be late.” A dreadfully familiar voice called from around the corner. Ryoko was all smiles as she appeared and looked at her daughter. “Ah, hello Seta-kun. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”

 

“I… you too, Ryoko-san.”

 

“Souji-kun came by to visit,” Yukiko put in quickly, “since he’s going back to Kofu soon.”

 

“And he wants to see his girlfriend?” Ryoko laughed richly at Yukiko’s blush. “I need no explanation, my dear. But, come. Breakfast is getting cold.”

 

“Of course.”

 

The walk to the dining room was lost in a haze, a thick fog of uncertainty and edginess that was burned away by Katsushiro’s glare from across the table. Yukiko gave her father the same explanation  she’d given Ryoko, and Souji at least had the sense to agree and sound convincing. He didn’t know what the menu had been, only that he’d complimented someone about it, all the while twitchy from the differing vibes from the Amagi family. Yukiko was tense but handling it well, Katsushiro was glaring a hole in the teen’s forehead, and Ryoko was as serene as the night before. “My daughter has responsibilities, Seta-san,” Katsushiro told him coldly near the end of the meal. “She doesn’t need you monopolizing her time. If you wish to maintain your welcome here, ensure that you’re not imposing on her, or her schedule.”

 

Yukiko took a fortifying breath. “Daddy-“

 

“Give them their time, Katsu,” Ryoko gently told him, startling the two teens. “He is only here for a few more days.”

 

“If he’s going to come here so early, the least he can do is dress properly.” _Wait... What?_ “He looks like he slept on a bench at the side of the road.”

 

“Teens believe they have all the time in the world for such things, and Seta-kun is a teenager, after all.”

 

Katsushiro grunted, placing his bowls together and standing to leave the room. “Yukiko, when you have a moment.”

 

“Of course, Daddy.” Yukiko finished off her own meal and, with a concerned look to Souji, left the room as well.

 

Arriving early? Yes, his clothes did look slept in, but why would Amagi-san think he’d arrived early when Ryoko-san had surely-

 

It hit him. It shocked his thoughts into order as the other million possibilities vanished. He stared incredulously at the Amagi matriarch, placing her husband’s utensils near her own and taking his place across from the befuddled teen. “You didn’t tell him.”

 

“Not yet.”Her tone was less distant than half an hour before, and less welcoming than the previous night. It was sober and to the point, and caught the frayed ends of his attention.

“But… why?”

 

“There are things I want to know, and I think you’ll tell me the truth of those matters. Katsu’s opinion of you would only get in the way of that.”

 

She let him process her words. It took a while. Everything was a jumbling mass in his head again, but without the breakneck pace. Finally, feeling a bit more in control for the first time that morning, he ventured, “what do you want to know?”

 

“About Yukiko, and your part in her life. She’s changed this past year, and I’m curious as to what part you’ve played in that. Both Katsu and myself are, actually.”

 

“Amagi-san does seem very protective of her. You as well.”

 

“Make no mistake, Katsu loves Yukiko more than life itself. And he doesn’t like you. He hasn’t liked any of the boys who’ve shown an interest in Yukiko, but he dislikes you in particular.”

 

“May I ask why?”

 

“You heard about part of it last night. Until now, we’ve only known about you from what the staff told us, or what Yukiko or Chie have let slip. Before that, you were Dojima-san’s nephew from the city, and you arrived just as those murder investigations started. Your move to Inaba was not without its grandeur, both at Yasogami and among the town. Neither of us wanted that kind of attention around Yukiko, so you can imagine how Katsu reacted when that was precisely what happened.”

 

He collected enough of himself to sigh. “Why so much attention on me?”

 

“You know why by now, I’m sure.”

 

“But for this long? It’s been more than a year.”

 

“You’re used to the cities, Seta-kun. In Inaba, news travels from the river to the railroad in a matter of minutes, and it’s harder to get lost in the crowd. Fresh news is a rare commodity.”

 

“I see your point, but not how it applies to me.”

 

“You’re not the first boy to pursue Yukiko. Katsu’s heard of boys “taking the Amagi Challenge” more than once. We both have. I cannot tell you how many times the staff have been followed or bothered for information on her. More often than not, these people are students in her class.” Ryoko’s sober stare cracked under a whimsical little smile, but only for half a second. “Chie’s also been taken to task for protecting Yukiko’s reputation more than once.”

 

“I’d heard that when I arrived,” Souji ventured, “and after the first day, it did seem that Chie took what the other students said pretty seriously. I always thought the numbers were exaggerated, though.”

 

“They are closer to accurate than not, as I understand it. Also, we’ve had four separate invitations for an arranged marriage since she turned 16.”

 

That hit Souji like a swung pillow – it connected, caught his attention, but didn’t surprise him. Yukiko was beautiful (sure, he was biased, but so what?), her family was rich , and so it only made sense that she’d have such offers. Souji’s parents had brought up that very topic with him more than once in the past, discussions which always ended in violent denials, sharp words, and frosty silence for days afterward. “I’m not surprised,” he offered, still unsure of his verbal footing. “She’s in a position where that would be expected.”

 

“The point, Seta-kun, is that Katsu and I have been at this point before. Young men arriving with more fanfare than a cavalry charge asking after Yukiko, treating her like a trophy to be won or a means to the Amagi name. Most were charming and offered a great deal to try to get in Katsu’s good graces. They offered Yukiko the stars on a necklace and the ocean one teaspoon at a time, but never managed to win her over. They saw her as a means to an end, and we all knew it. However, after all that, she brings you home and is willing to lie to us for your sake. She trusts you implicitly, so the matter of approval comes to Katsu and I. This is where I have to wonder: are you different from them?”

 

The question’s hard abruptness caught him off guard. Ryoko’s eyes held his in place, as riveting and intense as an angry snake. Swallowing twice and taking care to formulate his answer, he finally replied, “I don’t know how to answer that, Ryoko-san. I could tell you that Yukiko means more to me than I imagine she ever did to those other… candidates. That I’d still be with her if she were a penniless outcast with only her clothes to her name. But, if your description of her prior suitors is accurate, then you’ve heard that as well.” She responded with a faint smile, a twitch of the lips that didn’t reach her eyes. “I can’t say anything to you that wouldn’t sound like flattery or an excuse, especially after this morning. All I can do, in that case, is tell you how I feel about her.”

 

“And how is that?”

 

“I never went into detail about my parents last night. I wasn’t lying when I said they weren’t a happy subject for me. I’ve spent my childhood and adolescence going from city to city, school to school, pulled all over Japan on account of my parents’ work. I’ve lost a lot of friends because of that, because it was always easier to let go when I never held on in the first place.” The memories clouded his mind in grey, tinting his words with a dull flatness. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and never breaking his gaze with the woman. “Yukiko and the others changed that. I didn’t have the choice of letting go or running away. They showed me…” he glanced away, searching the wall beams for his words. “How to live,” he concluded at last. “Yukiko asked for my help in some things, and made me feel like I mattered. Yosuke and Chie did the same, granted, but it was different with Yukiko. She makes me feel good enough, like there’s someone in this world who’s in my corner no matter what. That’s a rare feeling for me, one I’m still getting used to.” It was the truth, and saying the words left him light-headed and dizzy.

 

“You raise something I wanted to ask you. But, later. Continue.”

 

He shrugged. “That’s about it. Your daughter’s the first person in years that I can say I don’t want to let go of. You’ve heard all the declarations of love and loyalty before, so I won’t bother you with them. But, in the end, she is very dear to me. I’d come back here to stay for her sake alone, if I could.”

 

Ryoko was quiet, pensive, and her stare lost some of its intensity. Still, he felt like she was seeing more than he was saying, and wondered how this woman, like her daughter, could read him so well despite knowing him for less than 24 hours. “You’re the first boy Yukiko’s talked about for more than half a year, Seta-kun. She actually dodged the issue when Katsu or I asked about you, even after Kasai mentioned you spending time with her at the shrine. Chie didn’t add much to the topic either, just saying that you were as dedicated to Yukiko’s happiness as she was herself.”

 

“I didn’t know that either,” Souji admitted.

 

“You’re the first instance of Yukiko saying she has a boyfriend,” Ryoko pointed out, and Souji couldn’t keep down the blush from his cheeks. “And the staff are supportive of you as well. That’s not easy – Kasai’s had similar issues with her own children, weeks of puppy love that always end in heartbreak, and she treats Yukiko like one of her own.”

 

“I see. Where does that take us, then?”

 

“I’m not going to mention what I saw this morning to Katsu. He wouldn’t be as open-minded about the matter, and I think that, had Yukiko felt in any way imposed upon, she would’ve said so, one way or another. However, I’m not giving you my blessing yet. There is still much to be determined, about you, Yukiko, and where you go from here. I want to see how you perform.”

 

“Meaning… you won’t object to me seeing her?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“But nor will you support me.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

It wasn’t a flag of support, but it was better than choosing between the noose or the firing squad. And Souji wasn’t sure Amagi-san didn’t have both rope and a gun somewhere on the premises. He was walking out of the situation with his hide, and that was plenty. “Very well. I guess that’s as much as I can hope for, all things considered. You said you wanted to know something about Yukiko earlier?”

 

“I did. I’m curious, what did you and her talk about or do when you lived here?”

 

Souji blinked. Twice. Then a third time. “Uh… I’m not sure where to begin with that, Ryoko-san.”

 

“Before last April, Yukiko was lethargic and withdrawn,” Ryoko explained. “Chie worked hard to talk to her, but Katsu and I worried that she was becoming clinically depressed. She did her work here as well as usual, but rarely ever smiled. Then she mentioned a new transfer student who’d talked to her in the rain and how different he was.” She smiled when Souji fidgeted under the memory, but it died away and the quiet intensity in her eyes dulled. “Then she disappeared. We thought she’d run away. I doubt Katsu or I slept more than four hours between us when that happened.”

 

Souji could feel the heavy pall of the memory on her, and nearly said _I’m sorry I didn’t get her back sooner_. He bit back the words, not knowing the details of what Yukiko or Chie had told people. “It couldn’t have been easy,” he offered instead.

 

“It got our attention,” Ryoko told him, shivering at the memory.

 

“That wasn’t her intention,” Souji assured her.

 

“Hm? Oh, no. I don’t mean that she did it for the attention – just that it made Katsu and I realize how distant from her we’d become by that point. Up to then, we’d been focusing so much on the Inn that our answer to the problems Yukiko was going through was to make her more a part of the daily goings-on.”

 

“I hope things worked out for you after that.”

 

The sharp intelligence and canny wit glowed in her eyes again, chasing away the past. “That’s it though. Before we had a chance to change much of anything, she seemed more active and energetic than ever before. We couldn’t pinpoint what had changed, and she never gave us a straight answer when we asked. She was smiling more and took to her work in a way we hadn’t seen before. Chie started spending more time with her when she could, and they seemed even closer than before. We thought they’d had a fight and worked through it, but Chie denied that. We thought there was a boy in her life then.”

 

Souji blinked owlishly  for a moment before the pieces connected. “So you think I triggered the change in her?”

 

“It does fit.”

 

“That would have been around late April though,” Souji pointed out after crunching the numbers and dates. “Yukiko and I started going out in August.”

 

“She mentioned you long before then, Souji-kun,” Ryoko informed him coolly.

 

“We were friends at that point. I was a soundboard when she needed someone to talk to. Nothing more.”

 

Ryoko looked thoughtful. “You know she was thinking about leaving the Inn when she graduated, Seta-kun?”

 

A long pause. The clock ticking in the corner. Long exhale. “I didn’t know she’d mentioned that.”

 

“Eventually. Only in the last month or so,” Ryoko clarified. “I was of the impression that she’d dropped the matter when she came back home, but obviously it went longer than that if you knew of it.”

 

Souji swore silently. _Walked right into that one_. “It did come up during our discussions. In all honesty, I don’t feel comfortable discussing this behind Yukiko’s back.”

 

“I understand, and I respect that. But the mother in me is curious about what changed. It’s not uncommon for children to try to break away from their parents’ path in life, but this seemed out of character for her.” Souji stayed silent. Impassive. “Please.”

 

He stared at her for a long while, losing count of just how long as the gears now turned in his head. Would Yukiko mind? She’d already mentioned it. How would Ryoko-san react? How would Katsushiro-san? The Inn was a central hub to their lives, yet there was still so much Souji didn’t know. Finally, running his thoughts in circles until they collectively collapsed, he sighed. “You didn’t hear this from me, Ryoko-san. I insist that this remain between us.”

 

“Of course. I promise.”

 

He sighed again and gathered his words. “Yukiko felt that her life was being decided for her. She said that the Inn, and her place as its inheritor, was something she’d been born into, but didn’t feel that she wanted.” The image of her Shadow popped into his mind, and the burn scars throbbed. “She compared it to a bird in a cage too small for its wings. Locked and restrained by something that’d always been there with no way of breaking free. That was her first impression when we started talking after she was found. But, as time passed, she started to rationalize the decision until she was going in circles. She always talked about Kasai-san and the others, how the cooks had pushed her out of the kitchen when she tried to make anything.”

 

“I don’t know if Yukimura-san wanted to laugh or cry back then,” Ryoko recalled. “The rest of the cooks were in stitches when they saw what she was putting together. They’ve never let her live it down.”

 

“After that, the producer and crew of that fake TV show started following her around.” Ryoko’s eyes went frigid at his words, a look that triggered a grim smile across Souji’s own face. “Long story short, she scared them off. It was around then that we’d started becoming more than just friends. And she also talked about how she’d come to see the Inn as her home instead of a burden to shoulder. That’s really all there is to it. No matter where Yukiko was going or how she’s ended up since then, it’s been on her own steam.”

 

“It sounds like you were an anchor for her when she needed one, Souji-kun.”

 

“Perhaps. If I was, then it’s all I was.” Ryoko looked skeptical. Souji’s calm façade wavered, cracking in the face of tough grit that showed as almost, not quite, a hard stare. “Ryoko-san, I’m going to be honest. Yukiko made her decisions on her own. Maybe I helped her, maybe I didn’t; I don’t feel like I did anything special. But in the end, she had the courage to look in the mirror and change something about herself that she didn’t like. I know personally how hard that can be. You give me more credit than I deserve if you think I caused a change in her. She changed back then, and is changing now, because she wants to.” He took a calming breath before continuing. “It’s something that’s been there all along. And, if we’re being totally honest, I’d say that I had little to do with any of it.”

 

“But you did play some part in it.”

 

“Sure – so did Chie and Yosuke, and probably Nanako and you and Amagi-san as well. In the end, Yukiko doesn’t need my help on this path she’s chosen. She knows what she wants and is willing to do what it takes to get there. That’s why she is where she is. It’s also why she means as much as she does to me. If you’re looking for a more complex reason for those changes, I can’t help you. She’s doing it for herself – nothing more, nothing less.”

 

“You really believe that, don’t you?” When Souji didn’t respond, Ryoko elaborated, “most boys would take some credit in these circumstances, especially since it could get you on Katsu’s better side.”

 

“I like to think I’m not ‘most boys’, Ryoko-san,” he replied calmly. “Yukiko’s one of the strongest people I know, and whatever she’s accomplished since then has almost nothing to do with me. There’s really nothing more to say on the subject.” Just then, Souji’s cell chimed, and when he flipped it open, he saw a text message waiting for him. Kanji. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way. I have something I need to look into before I return to Kofu. With your permission?”

 

“Of course, Seta-kun. Thank you for the information.”

 

He nodded politely, rose to his feet, and left the room, letting out an explosive breath halfway down the hall. It could have gone worse. It nearly had gone worse. Where to go from here? He shook his head to himself. _Work with what you have. Don’t start borrowing trouble_.

 

He saw Yukiko at the Inn’s entrance, now in her pink kimono. The area was empty, and she came over to him when she saw him. The tension in his shoulders melted when he caught her scent, more so when she rested her hands on his arms. “Are you alright?”

 

“Fine. Your mother just wanted to discuss some things.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like April after you got back from... well, you know.”

 

Her eyes clouded for a moment. “I see. That’s it?”

 

“Mostly.” His cell chimed again, and he didn’t bother opening it. “I have to go. Kanji’s waiting for me.”

 

“Kanji-kun? About what?”

 

“He wasn’t really clear.”

 

“I see.” She pulled him down, taking a closer look at his face. “Are you sure you’re alright? You were acting strange this morning.”

 

He gave a wry half-smile before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a nightmare that rattled me a bit, that’s all. I dreamt that your father found us this morning.”

 

She blinked, then began to giggle, pulling closer to him. “That does make sense.”

 

“Considering last night and breakfast this morning, I think you can see why it was a problem.” She shook her head, still laughing and pressed against him. Her arms came up against his back and held him in place as he tightened his hold. The nearness of her was starting to have its usual effect on him – tingles raced up and down his spine while his temperature ran hot and cold, and his hands and feet were starting to tremble.

 

He couldn’t help it. The time and distance between them felt like it was closing in, ready to tear them apart. Perhaps it was the leftover fear from that morning, or maybe it was defiance against what the separation they both knew was coming. Perhaps he just felt like his words, no matter how eloquent, weren’t enough. He pulled back a touch, brought her face up, and kissed her, shivering under her responding moan. Her arms tightened around him, deceptively strong, and despite his own hold on her, the kiss remained soft. When they finally broke for air, the feel of her breath on his face made him fight against the urge for a repeat performance. Maybe several. And her strong grip, still tight on his shoulders, suggested she wouldn’t mind.

 

But he heard footsteps from the nearby door, and painfully pulled away from her, still holding her forearms. He heard a door slide open and immediately felt the sharp glare of Katsushiro Amagi tear at his skin. He ignored it. “I have to go now,” he whispered, his breath stolen by the deep, soulful look she was giving him. “I’ll be back later.”

 

“Promise?” Her voice was no louder than his.

 

“Of course.” Reluctantly, she pried her fingers off of him, and he forced himself to do the same. “I’ll see you later.” Then he turned, slipped his shoes on, and left. He didn’t look back.

 

He didn’t want to make it any harder on Yukiko with her father, nor did he feel like pushing his luck with the man, but he also knew that if he did turn back to her, if he saw the look he knew she was giving him, he’d never leave. He’d run back to keep holding and kissing her, consequences be damned.

 

Souji squared his shoulders and slid the Inn’s front doors shut behind him before flipping his phone open and dialing a number. “Sorry about that. You free now? Good. Yeah, I’ll see you there.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

There was something comforting about the hill overlooking Inaba. Souji’d never had an attachment to points of elevation before, so he didn’t know if it was an affection that had popped up spontaneously, or was the result of so much time spent listening against the rail, soul searching under the gazebo, and laughing at the table. Either way, the wind cut across his face, brisk and sharp, and he felt his worries melt away on reflex. No fear, no concerns, no obligations. The residual tension from the Inn finally left him, leaving fatigue in its place. The last proper sleep he’d had was in Kofu, and it was catching up. Really, it would be so easy to nod off… right there… against… the railing…

 

“Yo! Senpai!”

 

Souji snapped back to reality, and nearly lost his footing. Still anchored to the fence, he brushed the sand from his eyes and stifled a yawn, turning around. “Hey Kanji.”

 

“You alright?”

 

“Yeah. Just tired.”

 

“Ah. So, I ran into Nanako-chan on the way here, an’ she said Dojima was lookin’ for you.”

 

Souji froze, then leaned into the fence. Either he really was exhausted, or his capacity for fear was spent  – he wasn’t worried about what Dojima would say, or about the others learning where he’d spent the night, or the morning with Yukiko’s parents, or… much of anything. It was comforting, being too numb to feel. “I see. Thanks.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“So. What did you need?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You weren’t clear in your message. What’s up?”

 

“Oh. Uh, right. Well, I was hoping we could talk.” Kanji’s eyes never rested on anything too long, and he finally sat heavily at the picnic table, hunched over and looking down toward Inaba.

 

Even through his fatigue, Souji fell into his old role like putting on a worn set of clothes. His stance eased, tension in his shoulders released, and the smile was easy and non-expectant. He could guess who and what was on Kanji’s mind, but didn’t feel like rushing it. When he took a seat next to his leather-clad friend, he leaned back and popped his back and neck out of habit. “Sure.”

 

“It’s about- well, I was wondering… about you an’ Yukiko-senpai.”

 

Souji quirked an eyebrow. Unexpected. But he’d bite. “What about us?”

 

“Well, you two’ve got a thing goin’, right?”

 

“We’re going out, yes.”

 

“Kinda thought so. She seemed a lot happier when you got here.”

 

“I got that impression too.”

 

“Y-yeah, I thought you would.”

 

“Kanji? Why do you want to know about me and Yukiko?”

 

“Huh? Oh, it’s not like that.”

 

“So what is it like?”

 

“It’s kinda… I was… how’d you tell her you liked her?”

 

Souji let the words sink in. It was impossible to miss Kanji’s fidgeting now. Clenched fists, darting eyes, tense and jerky movements, and the rhythmic opening and closing of his mouth, leaving him gnashing his teeth. “I guess telling you I opened my mouth and said the words wouldn’t help, would it?”

 

“It’s… it ain’t that simple though, is it?”

 

Souji took a few deep breaths and a few minutes to put his words together. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

 

Kanji calmed down enough to stop twitching and fidgeting. “I was kinda wonderin’ how you’d tell someone… y’know. It’s gutsy, right? And damned if I know where to start.”

 

“Not something you can ask your mother?”

 

“Huh? Ask Ma?”

 

“Sure. Your parents were married, right? Or was it arranged?”

 

“I… It wasn’t. Arranged, that is. I dunno. Ain’t somethin’ I wanna ask her.”

 

“It would feel weird?”

 

“Well, yeah.”

 

“Fair enough.” Souji leaned his head back, staring skyward. “Yukiko and I started as friends. Whatever we are now, or might be down the road, we were friends first.”

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

“If I were going to give you any advice, it’d be to start in the same place. Pushing a girl into a relationship really doesn’t seem like you.”

 

“But that’s-“ Kanji suddenly clammed up.

 

Souji cocked an eyebrow. “That’s what?”

 

“I…” Souji kept silent this time, waiting him out. “I dunno how to tell her.”

 

“Tell her what?”

 

“Anything!”

 

“Okay, well what do you feel for her?”

 

“Feel…?”

 

“You wouldn’t be asking me how to talk to someone unless you had something to say, would you?”

 

“Right, right.”

 

“So, let’s start there.”

 

“Uh… there ain’t…” Souji watched on. He kept silent, like usual, and tried to convey his understanding, come what may. Only this time it didn’t work. “Ah ta hell with this!” Kanji snapped, shoving himself to his feet. “ ‘m just wastin’ yer time.”

 

Souji pushed himself up as well. “What is it?”

 

“It ain’t nothin’! Just stupid shit, okay?”

 

“Then there’s no reason not to tell me.”

 

Calm and reasonable had worked in the past, but Souji actually heard Kanji’s nerve snap. Whatever the problem was, it had run him ragged enough to stomp up to Souji and glare. And, now that Souji thought about it, Kanji did look ragged. Hair messier than usual. Fingernails bitten back. Shirt rumpled and untucked. Souji wisely kept his mouth shut, waiting the outburst out. “You think you can help?”

 

“I want to try.”

 

The intelligent and brave man Souji’d fought beside last year was holding on to his temper by his fingertips. Old insecurities surfaced and burned in his eyes, a tempest of anger and confusion. “The hell do you care?”

 

“Because you’re my friend.” Kanji blinked, still hunched forward. “My friends are worth helping. Let me decide if it’s a waste of my time, alright?”

 

Kanji glared suspiciously. Souji stared back as calm as his racing heart would allow. That was not a fight he wanted; Yosuke had been one thing, but Kanji was taller and heavier than him. Finally, Kanji’s shoulders drooped and he collapsed back on the bench, staring at his boots. Souji eased in beside him, leaning back again. “I’m sorry,” Kanji mumbled.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Whatever it is, seems like it’s got you turning in circles.”

 

“Yeah… circles ain’t the half of it.” They went silent for a long while before Kanji spoke up again. “Dunno how to talk to girls, y’know? An’ now there’s one I like, and…”

 

“You talk to Yukiko and Chie,” Souji pointed out.

 

“Ain’t the same.”

 

“No past girlfriends? No experience?”

 

Kanji glanced over archly. “Don’t remember what I told you before, Senpai? About me an’ girls when I was growing up?”

 

“Of course I do. But were they all like that?”

 

“Yep.”

 

Souji hesitated. “So… no exceptions? Not one who looked past you sewing?”

 

“Nope. At least, none that talked to me about it.”

 

“…I see”

 

And he did. Finally, Souji got it. And felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. Kanji was a hands-on person, direct and straightforward almost to a fault. Trying to lead him to the answers on his own and giving him pep talks wouldn’t help anymore, because he didn’t have the physical groundwork for talking to a girl he liked yet. Nothing to build off of meant they were both starting from scratch.  “Here, stand up. We’re going to try something,” Souji told him. They stepped away from the table and faced each other. “Now, things to remember about talking to girls. What you say and how you say it are both different and important. When you tell someone you want to talk to them later, how would you do it?”

 

“Uh, ‘Yo, if you got time later, come talk to me’?”

 

“Good, but you’d say that to me or Yosuke, right?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“What about Rise?”

 

“Huh? Why Rise?”

 

“She’s a girl you know, right? And she’s attractive.”

 

“Uh, okay. I’d still say it like that.”

 

“Fair enough.” Souji’s eyes glinted in the afternoon light, and, for just a moment, the ghost of a smirk crossed his lips. “What about Naoto?”

 

Kanji jerked sharply, almost throwing himself off balance. “Wh-what?”

 

“Naoto. You had trouble talking to her before, so let’s work on that.”

 

“C-c’mon Senpai, that ain’t fair. I mean, you know…”

 

Souji’s expression didn’t change in the least. “I suspected. Whatever your feelings on the matter, it doesn’t matter right now. If you want to talk to her, you’re going to have to get past this.”

 

“But…  can’t she be the one to- I mean, you don’t think…?”

 

“No, I don’t. She’s as socially sheltered and complex as you are, and she’s not going to make the first move.” Kanji’s thoughtful and almost pleading expression wasn’t lost on the elder of the two. “She won’t, Kanji. For the same reason you aren’t. Guys aren’t the only ones to get scared talking to someone they like.”

 

“I… Dammit. This ain’t easy, is it?”

 

“No. Nothing worth hanging on to ever is. But if it helps, I’ll tell you how I felt; I thought my heart was going to stop when Yukiko and I had that conversation.”

 

“Yeah? Even you?”

 

“Yep.” A wistful smile cross his face as the memory danced before him. “She’d just found her own reason to stick with the Inn, and asked why I spent so much time with her. I thought, weeks before, how lucky I was to have the chances I did, and that I was being pretty obvious.” He chuckled. Time could make the tense and stressful so trite. “I told her I liked her. Nothing else. I’d had so many speeches and lines memorized for her. Didn’t matter. I just said what came to mind, and that was it.”

 

“Just like that, huh?”

 

“Well, for the most part. It was a start. We had a lot to work on after that, and still do. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

 

“But you were scared.”

 

“Terrified.”

 

“That’s… I dunno. I never woulda pegged you as being afraid like that, y’know?”

 

“I’m only human. And you’ll have your chances – just remember that they’re worth taking.”

 

Kanji scuffed his feet and looked away. “It’d be easier if… ah hell, you know, right? I ain’t you.”

 

Souji sobered and stood in Kanji’s view, eyes sharp and hard. “Don’t. We’ve talked about this. You’re fine the way you are, and if you want to get anywhere with Naoto, or any girl for that matter, then yourself is who you’ll have to be. No way around that.” Kanji blinked, then looked up at him. “I’ll help you any way I can. I promised you that before, remember? Nothing’s changed. But you have to work at it on your own.”

 

“Huh. Yeah. Not like we kicked the shit outta Izanami and that dick Adachi just to be pansy-assed wimps, right?”

 

Souji laughed. “Exactly.”

 

“So, what else do I need to work on?”

 

The early afternoon passed as Souji worked with Kanji on the finer points of socialization. Don’t tense up when you talk, don’t talk too fast, maintain pitch, think through what you’re going to say before you do, and so on. It was a learning experience for them both – Souji passed on ideas that came to mind on the fly, and Kanji’s questions made him think on the matter more than he ever had before. They were trudging along the road to the shopping district when Kanji stopped and asked, “so, where do I go from here? I mean, you taught me how to talk, but just going up and asking her out ain’t gonna work, is it?”

 

Souji chuckled quietly, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not going to like me for saying this, but I’ll say it anyway.” He turned to look Kanji in the eye. “It’s up to you. I can’t help you. How you approach the girl you’re after, what you say, the setting, it’s all your choice.”

 

“But, what about how you went with Yukiko-senpai?”

 

“Doesn’t matter. Chie and Yukiko are different people, as are Naoto and Rise. Following in my footsteps isn’t going to get you anywhere if your girl doesn’t respond to that approach. Have to jump in and test the water, you know?”

 

Kanji grunted, scuffing the ground with his boot. “Hmm. Yeah.”

 

Souji thought back to his conversation with Yosuke, and then with Naoto, before arranging his thoughts. “If you were to talk to Naoto, even for practice, I’d suggest trying to be her friend first. I think she’s going to be around Inaba for a while longer. Lots of time to learn, practice, that sort of thing.”

 

“Huh? Where’d you hear that?”

 

“I didn’t.” Nothing he’d confirmed, anyway. “Just a feeling I have. How she wanted to learn to cook, and Yosuke said she’s doing work by correspondence now.”

 

“Oh. So that’s what you were talking to her about at Yukiko-senpai’s?”

 

“Mm hm. And, between you, me, and the nearest fence post? I think her food’s going to be…” he glanced up, searching the sky for his words, “less dangerous than we’re used to from the girls.”

 

“Huh. Might talk about that… Dunno how though.”

 

“You’ll do fine,” Souji assured him. “Let me know if you hit a roadblock.”

 

“I… I appreciate that, Senpai. I’ll try not to need you too much though. Wanna try this stuff on my own, y’know?”

 

Souji chuckled, nodding in approval. “Good. You know my number, regardless.”

 

“Thanks Senpai.”

 

“Any time.”

 

They shook hands roughly and headed toward Tatsumi Textiles, changing topics and letting the discussions wander. Kanji had just headed into his house when Souji caught sight of a slender shape with familiar silver hair. “Ah. Konishi Naoki! Naoki-kun!”

 

The young man nearly tripped over his feet trying to turn on the spot, smiling, as much as he ever did, when he saw the older teen. “Souji-senpai! Glad to see you.”

 

“You too. How’ve you been?”

 

“Better. My parents are getting along more than before and… well, things’ve gotten better since you left.”

 

“Good to hear. And the family business?”

 

“Also better. Yosuke-senpai’s been helping me out, actually.”

 

“Yosuke? You don’t say.”

 

“Yeah. Nothing too big, just with ideas and suggestions, but it’s going good.”

 

“I’m glad. You look better for it.” It was the truth. No longer grim and reclusive, Naoki looked healthier and happier than when Souji had first met him. There was a quiet vivacity about his eyes that had caught Souji off guard at the train station in April, signs of a young man willing to face the pain of his sister’s death. And he looked a good inch taller than before.

 

Still, no matter how the young man might’ve grown, he still blushed a bit at the compliment. “I guess having a nagging senpai helps sometimes.” Souji chuckled and they turned down the street together. “By the way, Senpai, about your request?”

 

“Ah yes, the finance records. I don’t want to impose, if you can’t get a hold of them.”

 

“Well it’s not an imposition. More that it’s… a touchy subject with my parents.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, we’re just getting back on track after Junes opened up here, but anything to do with money’s pretty edgy.”

 

“I understand. I just need it for some references, something my father wants to test me on.”

 

“What’s he in? That seem like a strange test from a parent.”

 

Souji chuckled and glanced skyward. “Finance. They’re both in finance, so business portfolios are just the beginning with them.”

 

“Huh. So you trust them?”

 

The question threw the older of the pair. Souji’s eyes lowered inquisitively, an eyebrow cocked, while he thought of an answer. Trust them? “I just want to be sure,” Naoki clarified hastily. “They’re in finance, so maybe they can help out, but money’s the backbone of any business, and what with the problems here before, I wouldn’t want the information coming back to haunt me.” Trust his parents? They moved about their lives, he did the same with his. Trust simply  didn’t enter into it. Not anymore. “I mean, if anything can screw up a business, us or Junes, it’d be money, right? Not that I’d mind if it was Junes, mind you.”

 

That hit home. Souji was silent for a while before responding. “I have a friend who said the very same thing. Warned me to be careful who I gave the information to.”

 

“Oh. Well, I trust you, Senpai, so come on.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

They went into the liquor store and through the door to the back room where Naoki brought down an old book thick with notes and receipts. The writing, Souji noted immediately, differed by the day. Some was simple and utilitarian, no flare or style to the lines and sweeps. Other days were written out in a lighter, more airy hand, presumably Naoki’s mother, or perhaps Konishi Saki before she died. The entries during the previous April caught Souji’s attention with grim fascination. The day she’d died, and for weeks after, the writing was nearly illegible. Sometimes the pen had torn through the paper, or the ink was discoloured part way through the entries, like it had been half finished in one sitting, and completed later. And, interspersed through the month, there were water stains on the pages. Tears. “That’s everything, Souji-senpai,” Naoki told him, yanking him from his morbid reflections. “I have to get back to work before my parents come back. Let me know if you need anything else.”

 

“Thanks, Naoki-kun.” Souji brought out a pile of loose sheets and stared at the ledger, idly twisting his pen in his hand.

 

Did he trust his father? No. Souji knew that, if given the chance, his father would lie if he believed it necessary. Not out of malice, but obligation. Why tell the truth if it was going to cost more in the end? It was risk assessment. Weighing the odds. As economical and clinical as always. That said, he did want to see Yukiko again before he graduated. And his father was a means of accomplishing that.

 

Could it make that much of a difference? Chie had a point, but he didn’t think his father was so bored at work that he would jump to finance a new business halfway across Japan just because he had some finance information. It was the devil’s deal he’d made, yes, but Souji was also above carelessly breaking his word, even if his parents weren’t.

 

Souji leaned back in his chair, really weighing his own odds. He didn’t buy into the conspiracy theory, and didn’t think he’d set off an economic landslide by copying the material. On the other side, being his parent’s cat’s paw irritated him on a fundamental level of his psyche.

 

_What do you owe them?_ It wasn’t about owing anyone anything. Saki’s parents, when he’d heard them in the TV world so long ago, sounded uptight and harsh. But was that a reason to go behind their backs on something they clearly felt strongly about? It wasn’t that big a deal, he knew. A small business in the middle of nowhere, and the information would be-

 

He stopped when he looked again at the April, 2011 entries. He thought about it harder. It wasn’t the same as his own situation, he realized. His parents, if their employers were ever stupid enough to let them go, would be scouted within days by a competitor. Work ethic and talent like theirs went a long way in the corporate world. The Konishis, on the other hand, had one chance. And they were already living it. They’d invested their lives in the business, and what affected one clearly affected the other.

 

Souji sighed, massaging his temple against the growing headache. Why couldn’t it be easy? But he knew the answer to that. He’d given it to Kanji. Take a chance with his father? Or with a friend’s family in Inaba?

 

Finally, he settled back on his tried and true method of problem solving. The others on the investigation team would never let him live it down if they found out. He pulled out his wallet and fished out a 500-yen coin from a sleeve. Not an ordinary 500-yen coin though, but one with one pristine face and the other with a long groove across the surface. It was a souvenir from Maru-Q when a samurai shadow had tried to cut him in half. Instead it just got through his cloths, armour, and wallet, but not that coin. He’d kept it ever since.

 

Souji looked at the coin, then the ledger. He danced the coin through his knuckles and pondered his choices one more time. Then closed his hand, brought the coin to his thumb, and snapped it into the air.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

“We thank you for your time and expertise, Seta-san. Your competitors have been moving so fast that it’s been difficult to keep up. It is encouraging to see those willing to take steps to ensure proper and efficient  communication.”

 

“I am glad you are pleased. I agree with your observation – so many young people in the field these days, and so little patience.”

 

“Indeed. Again, thank you for your time. We will most definitely be in touch.”

 

“It has been an honour, gentlemen. Good day. Hitomi-chan, please show Sanada-san and Ichimura-san out.”

 

“Of course, Seta-san.”

 

The men and assistant left the office, and a chair tilted back, creaking slightly in contemplation. The sudden quiet was a welcome reprieve. So many years doing it, and catching clients was still a salacious little thrill, a guilty pleasure that harkened back to days long gone. Yes, it was the job of the salesmen, technically, but no one could say that Seta-san wasn’t dedicated to the company. And proper leaders, it was known, did so by example.

 

The office was a reflection of the person. Classy instead of gaudy, comfortable and professional. A regularly-cleaned floor of dark wood with a rug over top that cost half a new entrant’s annual salary. Plush seats and leather couches lined the walls, as did polished bookcases, full of corporate records and company policies. Degrees and certifications took up nearly half the available wall space, and a large window occupied the other. And the desk. It was dark, polished, and reflected, again, a professional, no-nonsense image. A computer, desk lights, writing utensils, and easily enough table space for paperwork and client portfolios. It all radiated authority and competence while not being overbearing or pompous. And it should – enough professionals had been paid to ensure such an image was presented. The only casual touch (planned, of course) to the professional veneer was a pair of framed photos off to the side of the desk. One was of a young university graduate, leaving at the top of the class and shaking hands with the dean of business, a triumphant smile setting off the entire picture. So many years, and it was still a strong memory, inspiring a smile less broad but just as proud every time. The other was a family photo, with a dark-haired woman standing next to a silver-haired man, a pale-headed child of four or five between them. They looked happy, and the child’s grin was hard to miss. Most clients and co-workers loved that one.

 

A long finger pressed the call button on the phone receiver. “Hitomi-chan, I’ll be in here for a while. Have someone send lunch in.”

 

“Of course, Seta-san.”

 

The chair creaked forward, and Kashihara Finance’s Management Director moved toward another door in the office. It was polished and dark, like most of the office, but worn with a cleaned brass handle instead of the usual wood. It was used by only one person, and everyone assumed it was Seta-san’s personal restroom or off-office sleeping quarters during crunch time. Seta-san, versed on the worth of assumptions, especially around coworkers, and knowing full well the value of image, never bothered to correct them.

 

The door clicked open and swung wide silently, clicking closed after being passed through. Another _snap_ , and a bank of lights went on while she made her way to her desk.

 

This wasn’t a restroom, as so many thought. That was the door on the other side of this room, complete with a spacious furo, hand-ironed towels, and an arsenal of body washes and shampoos that would have rivaled any Tokyo hair stylist’s work cabinet. No, this room was where the real work got done. Where the policies were looked over, office memos read, announcements sent out, and files kept. It was where Seta-san kept a worn futon for the 18-hour days and a repository of instant ramen and vitamins when the staff went home. It was where several spare sets of clothes were kept, vacuum-sealed, for last-minute 6AM meetings, complete 3-piece ensembles accompanied by boxes of foreign currency and language books.

 

It was also, simply put, a mind-boggling disaster area.

 

Stacks of paper by chairs, on chairs, and taking the place of chairs were on the floor, against the wall, and teetering on the edge of shelves. Books and binders and file folders were left open and marked with more folders and books jammed in edgewise. Company announcements were 8 deep on barely-hanging-on corkboards, and sticky notes took up 88% of the remaining 21% of desk area still visible. The drawers were lined with files, paper peeked through the cracks between one level and the next, there was a growing monument of pencils and pens and erasers and paperclips next to the computer screen, and even the name plate, ‘Seta Izumi’, was perched on 19 inches of forms like the crown of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Her broken-in office chair could only turn 76 degrees on account of the drawers and stacks around it, and the only way to the desk was along a worn track of less paper, in between the stacks, that twisted and turned like a broken-backed snake, but that she had grown so used to that she could navigate blind.

 

For the fire hazard it represented, not to mention the implications for her image to others learning about it, it was also the best filing system Izumi had ever come up with. She knew what each stack contained, where in the room a particular subject was stored. It was an extension of her mind’s unique means of categorization, and the two times she’d had the files placed in proper cabinets and drawers, it set her back so far that she was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. 36 hours later, the paper stacks were back and the office space was splashed white, and she was happier than a clam at high tide. Ordered chaos, Souji had once called it. Structured pandemonium. It was where she could let her mind wander and work at her best.

 

The phone, one of the four things on the desk not covered in or resting on paper, lit up. “Seta-san, your lunch is on its way. Also, several calls were sent to your voice mail.”

 

“Thank you, Hitomi-chan.”

 

She jammed the voice mail button, pen and paper ready. “You have – 18 – new messages and – 177 – saved messages in your archive. First archived message-“ She jammed several keys and took down the names and numbers. She was near the end when a gruff voice rattled through the room. “Izumi. It’s Ryotaro. We need to talk, about Souji and his time here in Inaba. You can reach me at...”

 

Ryo? What did her brother want? And what about Souji? He’d said his time spent in Inaba was... how did that go again?

 

< _BEEP_ > “Seta-san, your lunch is here.”

 

“I’ll be right there.”

 

She made her way to her ‘work office’ and ate alone, mulling over Ryo’s message. Within minutes of her finishing her meal, she resolved to talk to Souji about it when he returned from Inaba. Then the calls started, meetings were scheduled, and the message was left, blinking innocently, on the machine. By the time she went home that day, she remembered only that she was going to ask her son something.

 

\--

 

6:31AM. Wake up, turn off the alarm. 42 minutes of Tai Chi. Bathroom, clean up. Breakfast and coffee, sometimes started by Souji, sometimes not. Morning news and stock market. Commute. Morning messages, morning appointments, lunch, afternoon appointments, afternoon debriefing with the other managers, commute home. Evening paperwork, news and stock market. Dinner. Business talk with Yuuma. Evening Tai Chi. Sleep. 6:33AM. Wake up, turn off the alarm. 41 minutes of Tai Chi.

 

Izumi Seta was a creature of habit, and those habits had saved her career more than once. Thus it was two days after receiving Ryo’s message that she was exactly where she’d been when she first heard it, her mind on project budgets and personnel reports and client lists and meeting schedules. Souji had gotten back very early that morning, and she felt no need to prod him. The same could not be said for the need of others to prod her, however.

 

She was indulging in a late lunch, having cleared her schedule for it, when Hitomi buzzed her. “There’s a Detective Ryotaro Dojima on the line for you, Seta-san. He’s called several times, and won’t listen when I say you’re busy.”

 

“Put him through, Hitomi-chan.”

 

“Of course, ma’am.”

 

< _click_ > “Ryo. It’s been too long.”

 

“Before Chisato died,” her brother’s laconic voice replied.

 

“Has it been that long?”

 

“I’m on my lunch break, Izumi, so I don’t have the time to reminisce.”

 

She straightened in her chair. “Of course. What is it?”

 

“Have you spoken to Souji since he got back? About the time he spent here?”

 

“He got in early this morning. I haven’t asked him how he spent his weekend in Inaba yet.”

 

“I mean the first time. From last April until this March.”

 

“The subject hasn’t come up.”

 

A long pause. “Hasn’t come up?”

 

“Should it have? Did something happen? I’m sure he was well behaved for you.”

 

“He was here for a year, and you didn’t ask when he got back? You’ve been around him since March.”

 

“If something had come up, I’m sure he would have told me.”

 

 “That’s... you’re unbelievable. And Yuuma? Did Souji talk to him about it?” Her brother’s voice was harsh and clipped, cracking under strain. It was strange – he sounded angry.

 

“They argued about Souji’s going back to Inaba, but I don’t think they spoke on the topic of the time we spent in America. What’s so important that Souji talk to us about last year? He did say his grades didn’t suffer for it. Actually, I’ve gotten messages from some of his teachers, all complimentary. He seemed to do quite well academically.”

 

“His... his grades.” The anger had diminished, and he spoke quieter, almost a whisper. “So, he... what about America, Izumi?”

 

“Our business trip to America was very profitable. We made great progress for the company’s investment division, and-“

 

“I meant you. You said it was going to be the last overseas job you took, and that you’d cut back on office hours. I’ve heard otherwise, that you’re working as much as ever.”

 

She stiffened in her chair, eyes narrowing. Years apart without speaking regularly may have been a reason to be a little cross, but this was insulting. “There hasn’t been time to cut back. Yuuma and I are on the road to something big. And since when are my working practices your business? It has nothing to do with you.”

 

“It does when – yes Aihara, I’ll be there in a minute – when my nephew’s keeping his activities for the whole year to himself.”

 

“Activities? Like what? He’s not the sort to get involved in gangs – we taught him better than that.”

 

“Like the people he’s met, friends he’s made. He grew up a lot this past year, and I’m having to tell you?”

 

“We respect his privacy, Ryo. That isn’t a crime.”

 

“That’s... dammit Izumi, I – I heard you, Aihara! Two minutes! – I didn’t want to believe him.”

 

“Why? Did Souji say something?”

 

“He said you hadn’t changed between last year and this one. I really didn’t want to believe him. As for the rest, it’s his story to tell. Not mine. Much as I’d like to, it wouldn’t mean anything, and I don’t know all of it. Ask him. See if he’ll tell you about his friends, or a girl named Amagi, or maybe Nanako.”

 

“I’m sure he made friends, Ryo, and I’m sure he would have told me if he hadn’t gotten along with little Nanako or you.”

 

“That’s the point,” Ryo pointed out. “He did get along with a lot of people here. I still have calls here looking for him, or asking when he’ll get back. And from what most of them say, he had a pretty big impact in their lives.”

 

Izumi smiled proudly at that. “Of course he did. He’s our son.”

 

“Then why didn’t he tell you about it?”

 

“We don’t require that he checks in with us, Ryo. It’s his life, and he’s a very responsible person.”

 

Ryo sighed heavily. “You really don’t know anything about his time here, do you? I chewed him out when he was here this weekend, Izumi, and I thought he was exaggerating. Really, you could take the time to talk to your son. He’s a good kid, and he deserves better than being someone you think about between your business meetings.”

 

Her fist clenched and eyes narrowed angrily. “My whole life I’ve worked to get the opportunities I have now. Opportunities that Souji will benefit from when I’m done. My work takes time, and my family knows that. So don’t lecture me on my priorities or raising my son, Ryo,” she growled. “It has nothing to do with you.”

 

“It didn’t,” he corrected. “When he was a kid, he was yours completely. But then he came here, and now it does involve me. If you can find the time, ask him. Maybe he’ll tell you. I have to go.”

 

“You are making more of this than there is. Things are fine here. Souji’s grown up to be a smart, responsible young man. Whatever fears you have about him are groundless.”

 

“It’s not uncommon for teenagers to not talk to their parents, but Souji’s never danced around the issue when I needed to hear the truth. If he’s not talking to you or Yuuma, then there’s a problem. And maybe you should correct that before he graduates. He went through a lot here, and he’s keeping you out of his life. And you’re letting him. You’re better than that, Izumi.”

 

“Don’t tell me what to do. I know what I’m doing.”

 

“Perhaps. We’ll be in touch.”

 

The line went dead with a sharp finality, and the silence of the office felt awkward and stiff. She hung up the phone and glared at it, then let the anger wash over and leave her. Her brother’s vehemence was surprising, though not his words. He’d always lacked polish, and was blunt to a fault. Result of being a police officer and detective, she knew.

 

Still, for him to make a call concerning Souji was odd. The last time her brother did that had been to confirm Souji’s travel plans the year before. And the time before that had been from Chisato on Souji’s birthday, when he’d turned... 9? 11?

 

She made a point of recalling the conversation this time, and promised to talk to her son that evening.

 

\--

 

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, and she was back home before she knew it. Her conversation with Ryo nagged at the back of her mind. Not know her own son? Of course she knew him – she was his mother.

 

Still, it was strange to go through the evening looking for an opportunity to speak to Souji. Most nights the Seta family had their respective areas, and stuck to them. No matter where they’d lived in which city, Souji had a love seat and table near the kitchen, Izumi had the couch and table near the TV and half the office, and Yuuma had the desk in their bedroom and the other half of the office. No signs needed, no discussion had, no questions asked; those areas were theirs, and began to reflect their regular occupants. Izumi’s table resembled an architect’s planning room with its stacks of forms and scribbled notes, Souji had textbooks and notebooks and cookbooks scattered about the kitchen, bright with coloured stickies as page markers, and Yuuma’s desk in the bedroom and half of the office was organized and resembled a museum library in its orderliness. And where one might expect their different methods to interfere and grate on each other’s nerves, the Seta family was well-versed at stepping around each other rather than through a workspace – whole weeks could pass by with pre-set interactions and phrases and nary a further thought. Souji’s scratch of pen on paper or crackle of turning pages as he did homework or cooked meals. Yuuma’s multilingual chattering in the office. Izumi’s idle commentary on the news and day’s stock trades.

 

Thus it was strange to voluntarily break that mould, to tread upon the routine so much a staple of their house. She broke away from the news and looked to where her son was poring over his textbooks, scribbling down notes and spinning a 500 yen coin through his fingers. It was odd, she thought idly, how someone wearing white and grey could blend in so well with a brown floor and table and black leather couch. “I got a call from your uncle today,” she told him from across the room. No response. He tapped the end of his pen against his cheek and stopped spinning the coin – then continued the writing and spinning. “Souji.”

 

He jerked back, then turned to face her. “Sorry?”

 

“My brother called me today.”

 

He blinked for a few moments, then regained his composure. The same level stare and half smile as usual. “Uncle Dojima? What’s the occasion?”

 

“He wanted to talk about you.”

 

Souji pushed himself off the floor and sat against the couch edge closest to her, threading his half-gloved fingers together. “Really. I didn’t get a call, so I assume he wanted to talk to you specifically.”

 

Smart boy. “Indeed. He said I should ask you about Inaba.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“And something else. He said you’d said that things hadn’t changed around here.” Souji raised an eyebrow, but remained as calm as ever. “What did you mean by that?”

 

“Just that you’re as dedicated as ever, mother.” She tilted her head to the side, and he continued. “Last January you seemed like you were slowing down, remember? Something about a deal that’d gone sideways at the last minute. You said you were losing your centre.” She hummed in recollection. That was true – four months of hard work from first contact with the client to the planning and integration stages, and the client had gone bankrupt just as the plans were about to be finalized. Both she and Yuuma had been working on the deal from the beginning, and everyone had done their jobs as best they could. The CEOs had even commended the pair for their teamwork, saying that, regardless of the turnout due to the client, they had done exemplary work. Even if the deal would have been a burden later on, and the end result was to the benefit of the corporation, Izumi and Yuuma had burned out trying to make it work – having all that work come to nothing, even with a raise to perk them up, was a heavy blow. “That’s all I meant. You seem like you’re back on track from then.”

 

“I see. Ryo made it seem more... critical than that.”

 

Souji shrugged. “Maybe he was. It has been a long time since we talked to them. Nanako’s growing up fast for her age, and was asking questions about you. Besides, when was the last time you or father took any time off?”

 

“We’re needed at work, Souji.”

 

“Of course. But a vacation now and then might be good for you and father. I can handle things here. Working all the time gives people the impression that it’s all you can do, after all.”

 

“Hm. A valid point.”

 

“Was there anything else?”

 

“Your uncle said I should ask about the friends you made. Someone named Amagi?”

 

Souji paused for half a second, then chuckled. “Ah yes. Them.”

 

“Them? How is Amagi a ‘them’?”

 

“Amagi is a friend I made at school. One of several. Polite, smart, that sort of thing. She was a good study partner. And the others were a little colourful in their own way. Most were her friends, and I just tagged along for a while. Then I became part of the group, especially during exam time.”

 

“So they were the friends you went back to see.”

 

“They were.”

 

“And little Nanako?”

 

“She’s growing up. Takes on a lot of responsibility, but she spent time with Amagi and myself, both this weekend and before.”

 

“I don’t suppose you have any photos of them? Amagi and these friends?”

 

Souji shook his head. “I did, but I left them there. Plus Satonaka, one of Amagi’s friends, has the camera most of the pictures are on.” Izumi’s next question was cut off by Souji’s phone ringing. He grabbed it and glanced at the screen before looking up. “Are we done?”

 

“Go ahead.” She turned back to her table and reports.

 

Souji cut off the ringing and walked past his love seat, talking quietly. Every now and again a snippet of conversation or a chuckle would wander across the room.

 

A few minutes later, while Souji was still off in his corner near the window, her husband came out of the office. He greeting died in her throat when she saw the scowl on his face. “Souji!” he snapped. Their son turned from the window, not answering but looking at his father. “In here. Please.” Yuuma spun on his heel and returned to the office.

 

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Souji replied in the phone. “I’m being summoned. Can I call you back? Alright, see ya.” He snapped his phone closed and slipped it in his pocket before heading toward the office door. Izumi, the evening news forgotten, followed curiously. She could count with the fingers on two hands the times Yuuma had used that tone with their son, and still have fingers to spare. Thus, she glanced around the doorframe into the office.

 

Yuuma was sitting in his chair, straight and stiff as a carved marble statue, holding a manila folder. His usual half smile was gone, a twisted scowl in its place. Souji was leaning against the wall across from her, as calm as ever. “What is this?” Yuuma demanded.

 

“What do you mean, father?”

 

“This portfolio of yours is a disgrace.”

 

“How so? I used the format you taught me.”

 

“What am I supposed to get from this? These numbers are ridiculous.”

 

“It isn’t my fault that my sources were horrible at book keeping.”

 

“You expect me to believe that businesses in the black are this horrible at keeping records? Do you take me for an idiot, Souji?”

 

“I don’t have expectations of people, father. I’d hoped the information might be more coherent. Sadly, I was wrong.” Izumi noticed that Souji didn’t answer the second question, and frowned.

 

“These numbers are a joke. There’s no way they are accurate.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“I do. And you’re going to tell me why that’s the case before I ground you until you graduate.”

 

“I didn’t know you were looking for authenticity,” Souji remarked smoothly. “I thought this was more of a test to see if I could put the pieces together. Had I known you were looking for intimate data like that-“

 

“If you couldn’t put that together, Souji, then I’m frankly disappointed in you. I thought someone who claims such high test scores would be smarter than that.”

 

Izumi thought Souji’s tone would change at that. It didn’t. “I can’t help that they didn’t want to volunteer that information.” Smooth as quicksilver.

 

“A good businessman would convince them otherwise.”

 

“So I hear. May I ask why you wanted accurate information?”

 

“What?”

 

“This was just a test, some unconnected and largely irrelevant data about some small businesses. What does the accuracy matter?”

 

“That isn’t the point. The point is that this,” Yuuma gestured to the file he was pointing at his son, “is pathetic. Far beneath what I expect of you.” Silence. The clock ticking. More silence. “Well? Nothing to say for yourself?”

 

“I wasn’t aware you were asking a question,” Souji replied. “And no, I don’t have anything else to say on the matter. You being disappointed in me is nothing new. I’ve been hearing that since I was 13.”

 

Yuuma’s scowl deepened. “Are you being smart with me?”

 

“No. Simply stating a fact.”

 

“And if I said you failed my expectations?”

 

“No different. I’ve heard that several times over the last year and a half.”

 

“You’re trying to dig yourself deeper, aren’t you?”

 

Souji snorted. “Hardly. Just giving feedback. Your disappointment doesn’t scare me the way it used to, father.”

 

“You’re grounded. Cancel any further plans of going to Inaba. Now get out.”

 

Souji shrugged and padded out the room, ignoring his mother as he passed. Yuuma slammed the folder into the nearby garbage pail, swearing under his breath. Izumi stepped into the room, her head cocked to the side. “Was that necessary?”

 

“He made a fool of me,” Yuuma muttered darkly. “My own son.”

 

“Why was it so important?”

 

“It was an opportunity. A wasted one now.”

 

“Are you going to tell me more than that?”

 

Yuuma shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

“If you’re sure. I thought I should mention,” she told him, straightening her back, “that Ryo called today.”

 

“Your brother?” Yuuma grunted. He rarely said much about her detective sibling, or his headstrong wife before she’d passed away. “What did he want?”

 

“He said I should talk to Souji about his stay in Inaba last year.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I think he believes we’re not involved with Souji enough.”

 

Yuuma snorted. “We can’t all coddle our child like he and Chisato did. Did he give a basis for his reasoning?”

 

“He said they had a talk this weekend, and that Souji’s not telling us things. Important things.”

 

“Hmph. Anything else?”

 

“Ryo also seems to think Souji’s changed in the year he spent there. He wasn’t very specific.”

 

“Changed, huh. Like a girlfriend? Obviously it wasn’t in social graces or filial respect.”

 

“I think Souji would have mentioned a girlfriend. Especially if he knew it would interfere with any business opportunities here.”

 

“Precisely. So where does that leave us?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Izumi admitted. “Souji had an answer for all my concerns when I asked him.”

 

“I heard part of that,” Yuuma mentioned, resting his head on a fist. “What do you think? Has he changed much since last April?”

 

“That’s... a hard question to answer. I think he’s changed a little – I don’t think he would have spoken back to you like that a year and a half ago. But nor do I think he’s changed as drastically as Ryo suggests.”

 

“Or perhaps he has and is simply hiding it. Though I don’t see why he would.”

 

“Nor do I. And I think we would have noticed any serious changes in him by now.”

 

“Which you haven’t, I assume. Aside from those ridiculous armbands and gloves he’s taken to wearing.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

Yuuma leaned back in his chair and let out a tired sigh. “I think your brother’s seeing things, Izumi. He might have been near Souji while we were in the U.S., but Souji is still our son.”

 

“I agree.”

 

“Either way, we’ll be seeing him here until he’s done school.”

 

“Indeed.” Yuuma turned his chair around and looked out the window. Izumi pushed off the door and returned to the living room. Souji had already returned to his seat and was rapidly texting on his cell phone. When she sat back down at her table, she glanced over at her son.

 

“Was there a reason for that?”

 

Souji’s thumbs stopped and he looked back at her. “Reason for what?”

 

“Your theatrics in there. You know how seriously your father takes his work.”

 

“That portfolio had nothing to do with his work, mother.”

 

“He seemed to think so.”

 

“I have no control over that. It was what it was in Inaba.”

 

“Were you aiming to get grounded?”

 

“No. But I thought it might be a possibility after I finished writing it all out.”

 

“Souji, you shouldn’t aggravate him.”

 

“It’s only until I graduate, mother. Then I’ll be off at university.” He sighed when he saw her pointed look. “Fine. I’ll try to make nice with him.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

The rest of the evening passed quietly. The clouds broke and began to rain. Souji finished his homework and turned in early. An hour later, Yuuma came out to wish her good night. After that she’d lost herself in her reports, only realizing when she was done how much her eyes were burning. She pushed herself onto the deep, comfortable leather and stretched to the side, feeling her head touch the arm of the couch. He eyes pulled closed. She was asleep before she could think about it.

 

 

Izumi’s eyes popped open, momentarily blind. The room was cast in a heavy grey from the static of the TV and the dim light in the hall. Around her, furniture and couches were nearly as dark as the shadows they cast, indistinct half shapes both near and far. The windows tapped and pattered with the heavy rain outside. Her neck cricked painfully as she pushed up from the couch while speckles of black and colour sparked across her vision. She stifled a yawn and focused on getting the world to stop moving. She hated waking up in the middle of the night – she felt worse than the morning after a hard night of drinking, leaving everything off kilter. She couldn’t smell anything, not even the usual scent of ‘clean’ in their house, and there was a sharp, sour taste in her mouth, but her skin felt unusually alive, registering every stitch of her clothes and grain of the leather in the couch. Her vision returned in patches, and the sound of the rain was harsh to her ears. When the world finally righted itself, she frowned. She was normally a heavy sleeper; what woke her up?

 

As though on cue, a door down the hall opened sharply, followed by a frantic shuffle and slap of unsteady footsteps. She had barely set her feet on the ground to investigate when Souji burst into view. He staggered past her and stopped near the window by his couch and leaned against the wall, head bowed. Even in his grey sleeping pants and white shirt, he seemed to fade against the shadows in the corner. His frame lost its clear definition, like a ghost that had forgotten to stay outside that night.

 

In the relative quiet of the night, Izumi became almost painfully aware of her son’s breathing over the rain. Normally so even and paced, it was ragged, frantic, and trembling. She imagined she could hear his heartbeat from across the room, racing like a terrified horse.

 

Despite the gloom, she saw his shoulders jerk and shudder, paired with a wet, muffled choking and gasping. He was... crying? He was trying to suppress it, hold it all in, but...

 

Her son was crying.

 

It was a thought that hit like a sunbeam during a cloudy day, if that sunbeam had the mass of a freight train. It was unfamiliar. Alien. Souji hadn’t cried in... she couldn’t remember how long. And the sound, pained and quiet, locked her in place, pulling at heartstrings that were brittle and dusty with age. For the first time in more years than she wanted to claim, she didn’t know what to do.

 

The business director in her wanted to ask how long he’d been having nightmares. The woman in her was curious when it had started, and whether this was something that her brother had tried to mention. The mother in her, so long ignored that the feeling trembled and quaked uncertainly at the bottom of her heart, yearned only to go over and comfort him, to somehow take away his pain.

 

But so many years of observing people, being a woman in a man’s workplace, country and culture, told her one important thing about what she was seeing: it was personal. This moment, this night lost in time and place, wasn’t for her to see. It was a jagged, bloody wound with an origin that she couldn’t imagine. She wasn’t aware of anything, as her mental faculties kicked into gear, that would cause her normally stoic and composed son to break so clearly.

 

When his shudders began to subside and the compressed sobs died out, Izumi silently pushed herself to her feet, her emotions still firing every which way. How would she ask him? What words should she use? What approach? To question, analyze, or comfort?

 

In the end, she chose none of them.

 

“Souji?”

 

He straightened sharply. His naked left hand disappeared behind his body as he slowly turned, brushing at his face with his sleeve. When he stopped his left arm was hidden from view while he faced her sidewards. “I-“ he started harshly before sniffing hard and clearing his throat. “I didn’t see you there. I hope I didn’t wake you.” Not the placid calm of earlier in the evening, his voice was a toneless whisper, a deep, flat rasp that crawled along the floor and shivered up her spine.

 

“You didn’t. I was up before... well, this.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Fine. As much as I can be.”

 

“I didn’t know you had nightmares.”

 

He shrugged, not forming eye contact with her. “Not often, but sometimes. They seem worst when it rains.”

 

“Does this have anything to do with what Ryo said? About Inaba?”

 

“No.” The word was delivered smoothly, as though he expected it. “I don’t remember what it was about. I’ll be fine.”

 

“Well, if you’re sure...”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

His shaky delivery told her otherwise, but she didn’t know where else to go. “Then I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“Right. Good night, mother.” Souji turned back to the window, curtains pulled back. Izumi moved away from the couch and toward the hall, looking at him one last time as she passed by. His pale frame was unmoving while he leaned against the wall and stared out, no more than seven feet away. Yet that distance felt greater than the breadth of the East China Sea. Even the window, black and smooth as a mirror, cast no reflection as he looked out. For the first time that she could remember, Seta Izumi was at a loss with her son. He was different, changed in ways she was just now imagining. And those changes weren’t new, but instead worn smooth into a seamless shell on which she found no purchase. He wasn’t a client or an employee or her husband; she didn’t know where to go from here, let alone how to start.

 

In the face of it all, she turned toward her room, less certain than when she woke up that morning, and said the only thing she could. “Good night.”


	10. Chapter 10

Welcome, one and all, to the 10th chapter of Continuance! Thank you all so much for reading. I'd love to hear from you and give the comment button a try, so if you like the piece, hate it, have any suggestions or comments, I'd love to hear them. See you soon!

 

**Chapter 10**

“Here.”

 

Takenaka Megumi, luxuriously garbed in close-fitting grey and flattering white, set off with a striking yellow bandana, glanced over, appearing marginally surprised at the offering and gracing it with a small smile. A warm breeze brushed across her face and lips, teasing and tugging on the Sundaikofu High roof beneath an endlessly blue sky. She took the proffered box, decorated with a lovely picture of a Kyoto _sakura_ tree in full bloom, and cracked it open, giving the treasures held therein a discerning, oak-hued glance. She then raised her gaze and brushed her length of gleaming hair back with a small perfumed hand.  “Boxed lunches, Seta-kun? Really?”

 

“Don’t read too much into it,” he replied from where he sat nearby, his back to the fence surrounding the roof, cracking open his own lunch and fishing out a pair of red and white chopsticks. The box contained an array of colours, from the sliced carrots to teriyaki beef, tempura to pickled vegetables, all formed in a menagerie of animal shapes, namely birds and fish. To Takenaka Megumi, it looked more professional than the boxed lunches she’d bought in the past.

 

“I thought you’d’ve learned about giving anything to a girl by now. Especially here.”

 

“I’m trying a new recipe and needed a second opinion.”

 

“Of course you are.” She smiled saucily, perking her head on her hand and leaning forward. “Though you know by now how fast news travels, particularly when it’s about someone distinctive.”

 

Souji snorted. “We’re two short jumps from Tokyo, not to mention going to a fashion and model show tomorrow, and people don’t have better things to talk about. I can’t count the number of ways that that’s really sad.”

 

“People are people; they love to gossip, no matter who or where they are. And the way you handled everything yesterday, it’s no surprise they’re going to be talking even more.” Souji’s only response was to let out a heavy sigh, turning Megumi’s smirk thoughtful. “I’m sure you can guess what the topic of conversation is in the hallways where you’re concerned. Really, you didn’t have to go that far with all of them.”

 

“Yes I did. It’s better than stringing them along or giving out false hope.” He looked at her, a self-deprecating half-smile on his lips. “That wouldn’t be fair.”

 

“Still, an explanation would’ve helped some of them understand your decision. I don’t think you were wrong, but I don’t know why you did it either.”

 

**_Flashback_ **

****

The morning had been warm, a brisk breeze ruffling his bangs as he walked to school. He had yet to see Toyama that morning, but he was also running a bit behind, so it made sense. It was alright – sometimes Souji preferred his own company, enjoyed time to let his mind wander. He mentally retreated from Kofu to Inaba, reliving his discussions with the team. Lunch spent with Yosuke and Teddie; a practice session with Chie that had him ribbing her about her studies, and then holding sore ribs when she got a good kick in; another cooking session with Naoto; a trip to Junes with Nanako. And, of course, another stolen evening by the Samegawa with Yukiko. The memory of her in his arms as they watched the sun set still sent pleasant tingles up his arms and spine.

 

The walk continued uneventfully, and soon he was passing through the doors of Sundaikofu High. He saw Toyama further in, but the stopped cold and lodged in his throat.

 

What caught his eye was the immediate contradiction of his expectations. He expected the motion of students before and behind and around him, chatting and shuffling and walking. He expected the regular noise of the shoe area, and he’d grown accustomed to the drafts of air and scent of car exhaust wafting about the front doors.

 

What he heard was almost complete quiet, an alien feeling so early in the school day. What he saw was a smattering of students near the shoe lockers. Nothing new there, except they were comprised of Takenaka and Toyama, several members of the basketball team and their girlfriends. They were silent and staring at the doors, or at him. And there was a  tension about them, like the hush before a triumphant chorus, or a construction yard accident. One of the girls let out a strangled titter of giggles, and was hushed by several other strained tones. Toyama didn’t try to hide it; a wide smile, reminding Souji distinctly of Alice in Wonderland’s Cheshire Cat, split his face. He tried to say something, but looked at Souji’s shoe locker and had to turn away, barely-held laughter breaking through his restraint. Takenaka’s smirk, oddly enough, was half-hearted and thoughtful rather than amused.

 

Souji looked at the students, then his shoe locker. Students. Locker. Closer at his locker. “Okay, what did you do?”

 

Several students burst out laughing, others turning to conceal their mirth, but Souji remained sober. A scowl of exasperation crept across his face as he pulled his notebook from his bag and, after examining his locker closely, set the book’s edge against the locker. He coldly ignored a fresh peal of laughter from the peanut gallery when they saw his precautions. “Oh come on, Seta-kun,” Toyama chortled. “What are you expecting, paint bombs? It’s nothing like that.”

 

“Can you say that with a straight face?”

 

“Of – of course.” He couldn’t even kept the grin down to a smile.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

Souji angled his notebook away from himself; it was an adequate shield against paint bombs. He kept his feet spread apart, in case of some lump of sludge, organic or otherwise, was sitting on the edge of the locker. Out of reflex, he took a deep breath and held it as he reached around to the handle, and slowly, gingerly, snapped the latch. Nothing yet. A flick of his wrist pulled the door open, revealing...

 

A flutter of paper. Envelopes that hit the ground in a rush.

 

Souji blinked. Twice. Then pulled his notebook back and looked into his shoe locker. One more envelope rested on his shoes, but no paint bombs were found. Or sludge, or spring-loaded theatrics of coloured paper and string, or voice-recorded noise boxes. Seven envelopes in total, when he picked up the one that had fallen to the ground, and turned them over in his hands. He felt his stomach slide down his waist, bounce down his calves, and _plop_ to his shoes when he saw the heart-shaped stickers on some of them.

 

“You got popular in your absence,” Toyama explained when the chuckles died down. “Honami-san from class 3-4 made kind of a production about it, and Ashida-chan in class 2-2 had to ask a few people to make sure she got your locker. Not really subtle.”

 

Souji tore open one of the envelopes and read the pages held within. The writing was tricky to read, due, when he looked closer, to the overextended lines and quivering swoops. Whoever wrote it had shaky hands. The content, however, was what he dreaded – a request to meet later and come find the writer later. Among other things. Not a love letter, but the sentiment was hardly platonic. He sighed heavily. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought Valentine’s Day was in February.”

 

“Yeah, but you weren’t here then. I guess some of them wanted to do some catching up.”

 

“So... how is it funny?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I don’t see what’s so amusing about the situation. I’m sure some of them were nervous doing this, and finding the courage to do this doesn’t strike me as amusing.”

 

The group went almost uncomfortably quiet. “I guess you had to be there,” a team member said at last. “Some of their attempts were pretty funny.”

 

Souji folded the letter back into its envelope and placed them all in his bag. “I see.”

 

“Come on, Seta, don’t be such a kill-joy,” another team member, Yuhara, told him. “Enjoy the popularity. Lots of guys would kill to have so many fine ladies know their name.”

 

The homeroom bell rang and the group scattered to their respective classes. No small number of students, many of whom were strangers, asked him about the letters. Most got a non-committal answer. As he was waiting on his teacher, Souji went through the envelopes. Some could be interpreted as platonic, but most felt like a sunshine-and-rainbows version of an almost-love letter. Toyama, seated behind him, cocked his head when Souji groaned. “Problem, Seta-kun?”

 

He held up the collection of envelopes. “I know how I’m spending my lunch hour.”

 

Yuhara, listening in, leaned across the aisle. “What? Oh, so you’re going to go see how they measure up, right? See what the goods are?” Souji glanced back flatly, the expression saying it all. “What?”

 

“I’m not stringing anyone along, Yuhara, I have a little more self-respect than that.”

 

“You’re not seriously going to turn them down, are you? You don’t even know them yet.”

 

“Is Takenaka-san available today, Toyama-kun?”

 

The team captain perked up, surprised. “Uh, she should be. Why?”

 

Souji waved the envelopes back and forth. “I’m sure she knows a few of the girls who sent these in.”

 

“I’ll text her, if you want. She probably knows a few of them.”

 

 “I’m in your debt.”

 

“I don’t buy it,” Yuhara scoffed. “No way you’re going to turn them all down. Some of them are damn sexy, and as far as I know, you don’t have a reason not to try one or two out. So get off your soapbox and stop acting so noble.” Souji ignored him and continued through the letters.

 

That lunch hour, Takenaka found the girls for him. Honami-san was first, looking at him hopefully, a trace of blush on her cheeks. “I’d like to address this,” he told her politely, almost painfully so, holding up the letter.

 

“Sure.”

 

“I don’t have a lot of time, so please forgive me for being blunt. What sentiment was this sent with?”

 

Her eyes got wide. “Uh, well...”

 

_Don’t falter_. His voice came out clinical, and he wondered, not for the first time, how he sounded to the others. Distant, probably. Harsh or cold. “Because if it is out of more than friendship, then I’m afraid I can’t accept this letter. Nor the sentiment.”

 

He gave it a moment to sink in. “So,” she whispered, trembling a little “you’re taken?”

 

“I don’t mind being friends – I have too few here as it is. But I cannot be more than that.”

 

“Why?”

 

It wasn’t fair to them. Nor to him, in a sense, though he felt guilty for thinking of himself in the situation. He’d stopped trying to hook up with girls after the fourth time an impromptu move to a new city on account of ‘family business’ had left him with a sobbing ex in his arms while he wept on the inside and cursed his lot in life. And yet the girls he attracted were so rarely the type who took his rejections with a smile and said ‘okay, so how about being friends?’ Instead there were often tears and awkward silences for weeks afterward, repeated like clockwork every year.

 

So, this wasn’t new; rather, it was heart-wrenchingly familiar.  Still, practice helped him adjust, and his voice stayed cool and level. He bowed. “I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

 

“I... I see.” He could already hear her voice cracking. “Thank you for being honest. Now excuse me.”

 

Souji nodded and turned away, rock steady, walking back down the hall. There was a grimly amusing mixture of silence and murmurs along the corridor, like mixing shampoo with motor oil. People loved their drama, until it seemed like it would collapse into histrionics; then they couldn’t be found without bribe money and a heartbeat tracker. He drowned out the words; they never changed either. When he saw Takenaka again, all he said was “who’s next?”

 

True to his estimation, his lunch hour was spent locating the writers of the letter and putting on repeat performances. Some of them put on a brave face. Others cried. One got angry at his answers and stormed off when he refused to budge on the matter. But nearly all of them had the same disappointed and hurt look in their eyes, and he knew that bowing and words wouldn’t  change that. Outwardly, he was almost clinically polite, but seeing the effects of his words hurt him more than he let on, digging into his chest at having to be the source of another person’s pain.

 

_He’s made as many girls cry as there are stars in the sky!_ Those words cut close to the mark. It wasn’t the first time, and regardless of what he hoped, it probably wouldn’t be the last. And it never, ever got easier.

 

**_End Flashback_ **

 

“It would’ve been easier for them to take if you’d said you have a girlfriend,” Megumi finished, pulling out her own chop sticks. “Some were just hoping to break the ice.”

 

“It was more than that, Takenaka-san. At least for some of them.”

 

“And you dealt with it accordingly. I know. But would it really hurt to let some people in?”

 

“I have – you and Toyama-kun.”

 

“You mean you’re happy hanging out with another guy’s girlfriend?”

 

“You’re safe. I don’t have to worry about you taking things the wrong way.”

 

She shook her head. “I suppose it would kill you to take a chance?”

 

“You’re also interesting. There’s more to you than you let on,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “Besides, why are you hanging out with the transfer student when you could be watching Toyama-kun run up and down the court?”

 

She laughed, a deep, rich sound. “Turning it around, Seta-kun? I’m not hiding anything like you are.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

She placed her lunch to the side, thus far untouched, and leaned into Seta’s shoulder, a breast pressed against his arm and her lips close to his ear. “Of course,” she whispered huskily. “I’m an open book – just run your finger down my spine, crack me open, and take a look inside.”

 

If she expected stammering or leering, she was disappointed – he did neither. He just looked at her archly, silver eyebrows crowning argent eyes, and chuckled. “Very eloquent. Well put.”

 

She backed away, holding his gaze. “You don’t believe me?”

 

He turned toward the door. “Doesn’t matter. Try your food.”

 

As though ‘food’ were a magic word, Toyama Yoshiro flew through the door across the roof from them, still breathing hard from practice. “Seta! You said you needed a taster or something?” Souji already had the third _bento_ box in hand. “Damn man, you’re a life saver.” Chopsticks were nearly optional as he started shoveling food in his mouth. A third of the box was gone before he looked up and cleared his throat. “Uh, were you looking for something in particular? Like if I can taste something specific? Because it beats the school-sold stuff any day.”

 

Souji chuckled. “No no, enjoy. That’s enough for now. How about you, Takenaka-san?”

 

“It’s... This is excellent, Seta-kun. Where’d you learn to cook?”

 

“Yeah, that’s usually the girl’s job,” Toyama put in. “Makes sense if you’re single though.”

 

“Which you aren’t, are you?” Takenaka queried.

 

“No comment,” Souji replied without the faintest hint of a smile. “But I’m more self-taught than anything. Which is why I want to know if it’s any good.”

 

“It’s great,” Toyama assured him around a second helping. “By the way, you’ll be coming along tomorrow, right?”

 

“In all likelihood.”

 

“Cool. Wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

 

“Mm hm. Are you about to ask for a favour?”

 

Toyama had the grace to look almost offended while eating. “Of course not. Just curious.”

 

“Right. Well, I’ll be there; a field trip beats a lecture any day of the week.”

 

“Especially if teen idols on a stage are part of the show, right?” Takenaka tossed in.

 

Souji wisely kept his friendship to Rise, and her message on his phone, to himself. “It makes things interesting from a professional standpoint. Lots of marketing goes into these events, and it’s a good chance to meet people and make some connections.”

 

“Oh come on,” Toyama told him. “You’re not serious, right? Beautiful idols and models to see, probably in skimpy clothes, and you’re thinking of it as an educational trip?”

 

“Most of the names are of teen idols and rising pop stars.”

 

“So?”

 

“I prefer a little more maturity in my women.”

 

“Well, at least you’re looking,” Takenaka muttered behind her chopsticks.

 

Souji chuckled. “Now now, be nice.”

 

“Seriously though, I doubt even you can stay all distant and nonchalant around celebs,” Toyama continued. “That alone’ll make it a day to remember.”

 

\--

 

The day dawned cloudy and cool, just enough to warrant long sleeves, and broke into a smattering of clouds that kept it from getting too warm. Souji made the concession of a full-length shirt and rolled the cuffs back, then donned his usual school attire, complete with arm wraps, this time a striking red, and gloves. He’d breezed through his morning rituals, and was on the bus before he’d given it a second thought. There were patches of silence as he passed the seats that he tried not to let get to him, and he crashed into the window seat halfway down the bus, nodding to Toyama and Takenaka when they took the seat in front of him. He didn’t notice who sat beside him, or if anyone did. Instead he pulled his shades on and tried to let he tension of the last few days seep out. All around him the students were abuzz, hype growing by the minute and the mile over who would be showcasing what. When he wasn’t relaxing, and was sure no one could look over his shoulder, he pulled out his phone and checked the inbox. Rise’s message, half exclamation points and capital letters and emoticons, confirmed she’d be at the show and looking for him. Despite having read it periodically for two days, it still brought out a chuckle. Slipping it back into his coat pocket, he leaned back and stared out the window and let his mind wander.

 

Which was a mistake. Pulling at the stray edges of his consciousness were the remnants of the nightmare that’d sent him crashing through his room a few nights ago. He hadn’t expected his mother to be there, and he’d caught her watching him a few times since that night. At least she hadn’t seen his scars.

 

**_Flashback_ **

****

Magatsu Inaba sprawled out before them, reds and blacks spattered across jagged rocks that reached for the twisted ‘sky’ like skeletal fingers, begging for one more chance. Around them the hissing of static and raindrops on pavement echoed, only they felt no rain. This twisted facade of normality, an anti-reality that hummed along their skin and sat in their stomachs like a sickness, tasted like bile for its unnaturalness.

 

Souji was used to unnatural, but not at this level. He kept his mind off it when Adachi sent another blast his way, forcing him into a hard roll. When he came to his feet, Adachi’s hand drew back, then shot forward toward Yosuke.

 

What raced toward the brunette wasn’t lightning or wind, but a twisted appendage, rocky and jagged and twisting like muscle and tendon. Spiked, barbed, and whistling as it ripped through the air. Souji’s partner was recovering from the last hit, and looked up in time to see it coming at him. He froze.

 

“ _Yosuke!_ ” Souji slammed into his shoulder, sending him sprawling, turning-

 

And the spike hit, punching through his armour and ripping into his right shoulder. He dropped his sword and shouted in shock, half-deaf to the calls of _“Souji!”_ and _“Senpai!”_ , as the spikes twisted and spread, tearing deeper. The pain, tolerable only due to his countless other battles, was white fire and frozen nails in his flesh. His breath seized in his fluttering chest and his vision darkened at the edges.

 

An inhuman voice fluctuated through the rain, rippling with power and malice. “Always the hero,” Adachi growled. “Putting yourself ahead, scrounging to the top. You’re the pathetic one.” Souji’s eyes reopened, staring at the hazy black image that was his enemy. “And that annoying little cousin of yours, so cheery and god-damned loud. I should’ve gotten her thrown in earlier. Dojima would’ve noticed that.” The spikes expanded in his shoulder, digging deeper, biting into bone. Souji was about to black out. The others retaliated, but Adachi was intent on their leader. “Dojima... arrogant bastard, all the times he looked down on me. Losing his brat served him right.”

 

Souji’s vision cleared. The sleepless nights and unfiltered terror he’d felt when Nanako had been in heaven hit him, potent as if he were there again. The roads, the gates, her voice, and before it all, his uncle, dearer family than he’d ever had, dazed and bleeding in a crumpled driver’s seat. This time, it was coupled with all the rage of learning he’d been duped. His power, flickering on edge of consciousness, roared and whipped in the pit of his stomach. It crept up his stomach and chest, lodging in throat. His ears were ringing, his legs weak, and a single spark of hate burning in his heart. Blue light and lightning swirled around him, unfettered and seeking a target. He slammed his left hand on a spike and twisted, the pain in a separate part of his body twisting a grimace across his face. _“Persona!”_ Black blades cut through the spike in his shoulder and spiralled down the length, tearing through the deformed appendage and screaming for blood. Adachi blocked them, but grunted under the strain.

 

Souji wasn’t finished. His left hand , bloody and ruined, glowing and hissed white and blue. The power building, had he thought of it, would have frightened him – it was more than he’d ever channeled before. Every nerve ending came alive. His shoulder screamed, still holding the jagged remnants of the spike. He lashed out, turning loose lightning that ripped up the ground as it passed, sounding like he’d torn a hole in reality.

 

He’d never wanted anyone dead so much as he did in that instant.

 

The lightning slammed into Adachi, cutting through his barrier and tearing into his persona-

Wait.

 

Adachi grinned sadistically, the lightning held at bay and swirling around a clenched fist. It twisted and whipped around him, turning red. Then he whipped it back out.

 

That didn’t happen...

 

The lightning blew Yosuke back and cut into Chie, leaving a burnt stump where her leg used to be. Naoto tried defending herself, but the heat sparked the live rounds in her gun, and her scream was drowned out by another explosion. Yukiko was gone in a blast of light.

 

_This isn’t real..._

 

Kanji was coughing up blood, a black spike lodged in his chest. Teddie faltered and was blown apart, pieces of burnt flesh and smoking outfit scattered across the ground. Rise was left near him, paralyzed in shock.

 

“This is how it ends, hero...”

 

_THIS ISN’T REAL!_

 

He came awake in a flash, a scream about to break free. His limbs were held back. Restrained. His thrashing had tied his blanket around him like a straightjacket. When he tore free of it and got to his feet, he staggered into his desk. The room felt humid and heavy, smelled like stone and iron and blood. The rain hit his window harder. Everything spun around him.

 

He didn’t remember stumbling for the door, or staggering down the hall. He remembered holding the sobs in as he passed his parents’ room. They didn’t need to know. He made his way to the window where his couch sat.

 

His corner was cold, dark, and comfortingly unfamiliar. Dojima’s house hadn’t had a hard corner near a window. He hadn’t shivered by a length of curtains when his scars throbbed in Inaba. There was no loveseat to trip into when the screams hammered at clenched teeth and fear ran the length of his body hot and cold.

 

This was his corner, away from the Shadows and nightmares – adrift in time and place. A new sanctuary when all the others had been used up.

 

Because there had been nights when the tears and fears got too strong to hold in.

 

And there would be nights when the memories wouldn’t abandon their hold.

 

**_End Flashback_ **

 

“Seta.”

 

He snapped out of his reminiscences, looking up at Toyama’s face. “Hm?”

 

“You’re quieter than usual. What’s up?”

 

Souji chuckled, letting his thoughts return to those of a normal high-schooler. As much as he could. “It’s nothing. Just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

 

“Still think you could’ve handled it differently?”

 

“Handled what?” Takenaka glanced over her seat as well. “Oh. No. Rather, I might’ve been able to, but that’s not bothering me.”

 

“Jitters of seeing celebs and idols up close?”

 

“Something like that.”

He passed the rest of the trip chatting idly with the pair in front of him, distancing himself from the nightmare and buoying himself with the knowledge that he’d see his friend soon. More than once he heard Risette mentioned by the others, and had to conceal a smile. Finally the bus stopped, and the buzz of students grew to a roar around him despite the teachers trying to maintain order. When instructions were given and doors were opened, the rushing tide of adolescents broke and poured onto the concrete. Souji waited until the pushing and shouting was over, standing clear of the ebb and flow of his classmates, before making his way out of the bus.

 

The exhibition stretched before them with stages and kiosks and food outlets scattered about. It had its share of the paparazzi, but was, all things considered, only modestly populated with spectators. Souji knew the grounds would be packed after business hours, and he could see other groups of students waving and pointing at the various stages. He made a point of keeping out of the way of his enthusiastic classmates, content to go slow. His only obstruction was a hyperactive middle-school student passing out baseball caps sporting Kanamin’s logo, shoving one into his hands before scurrying off. It wasn’t his style or colour, but it could serve as a buffer against more offers of celebrity memorabilia that would be lost in his closet. Or so he hoped. So he stuffed the cap in his bag and kept looking around.

 

“Seta-kun.” He turned to meet the sober gaze of Inoue, Rise’s manager.

 

“Inoue-san.” Souji bowed politely. “How are you?”

 

The older man chuckled ruefully. “Rise’s return took the media by storm, and I haven’t rested since.”

 

“You look well for it though.”

 

“She’s back where she belongs,” Inoue asserted. “I have no doubt Inaba was good for her, but I also never doubted she’d be back, where things are happening.”

 

“She’s enjoying herself too, I’m sure.”

 

“No doubt.” Inoue eyed Souji calmly, chuckling finally. “I suppose your presence here means I should get ready for another publicity storm.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Your little stunt last year? Saying you’d marry Rise? I got more press about that than I did when she said she was leaving showbiz.”

 

“That wasn’t my intention.”

 

Inoue waved it off. “It was good for her return, actually. It helped keep her current, in its own way. So if anything happens today, I suppose I should get ready.” When Souji objected, Inoue chuckled good-naturedly. “Publicity’s good for her, Seta-kun. Even if things just happen around you.”

 

“Did she say that?”

 

“Something along those lines, yes. And it was the impression I got when I met you in Inaba. Enjoy yourself.”

 

“Thank you, Inoue-san.”

 

Souji made his way to the main stages, empty during the intermission while guests and students and reporters snapped pictures and waved hands and shouted excitedly. He stopped near Takenaka, who watched Toyama and Yuhara as they babbled like fanboys over Kanamin’s newest album and posters. “You’re alright with that?” he asked.

 

“Of course. Boys need their time to dream, even if they aren’t doing that dreaming with what’s between their ears.”

 

“That’s a pretty mature attitude, Takenaka.”

 

“Surprised?”

 

“Impressed. Not many of our classmates think the same.” He nodded toward a group of girls who were glaring rusty nails and broken glass at a pack of guys emulating Toyama and Yuhara. “Most adults and married couples I know don’t have that kind of trust.”

 

“Yoshi-kun and I have worked out the details,” she replied dismissively. Then growled darkly when she saw a girl from another school push closer to Toyama than was strictly polite. “Excuse me.”

 

“Of-“ She was already gone, sidling up to her boyfriend and catching the girl’s attention. “Well, so much for that,” he murmured. While Souji would have been interested in hearing how angry the normally-flirty Takenaka could get, he also knew better than to be close to a catfight, lest he be pulled into it. So he walked toward the edge of one crowd and ended up near another where “Risette” was heard more often. Even over the traffic on the nearby road, he heard familiar chords and lyrics drifting about. Pop music had never appealed to him, but he had to admit that her newest single sounded better than her older work. He was probably an unreliable source, he thought ruefully to himself, having heard her practice the lyrics before he left Inaba. They seemed clearer though, more vibrant. And she sounded close, like she was-

 

_“SeeeeeeennnnPAAAAIIIIII!!~”_

He was spun around hard when a high-speed celebrity crashed into him, applying all the laws of GLOMP without flaw. Arms were latched around his torso as he fought for footing and prayed they wouldn’t crash into anyone. When he caught his balance, he looked down into the made-up and widely grinning face of the Inaba Murders Investigation Team’s Shadow Detection Expert. “Hey Rise.”

 

She immediately started pouting spectacularly, a pout reserved for her fans at her best. “’Hey Rise’? No calls, no texts, no letters, and no visits! What am I to you, Senpai!?”

 

“I called you last week,” Souji pointed out, “and I texted you twice.”

 

“No excuses!”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Um, Senpai?” Souji turned and froze when he saw Ashida looking at them gravely. “I apologize for before.” She bowed solemnly. “If I’d known... please forgive the mistake.”

 

“Before? Wait, this isn’t what-“

 

“Oh, do you know Souji-senpai too?” Rise asked, releasing his chest and instead wrapping around his arm. There was no way, Souji belatedly realized, that someone _wouldn’t_ think they were an item. His mind sputtered to a halt. The timing of this, days after he’d practically declared himself unavailable at school, was disgusting.

 

 “I-“

 

“We attend the same school,” Ashida replied.

 

“Ah, okay. Well Senpai and me go way back.”

 

There was a crowd gathering, of paparazzi students from Souji’s school and others, and Souji counted at least six cameras and eight cell phones that were either being held up for pictures or spoken into. Then the flashes were starting. “Rise...”

 

“I... I see. He didn’t say he was seeing Risette. That makes much more sense now,” Ashida continued. “Again, I apologize.”

 

“You could’ve said something,” Toyama demanded, looking a bit wild around the eyes. “I mean, I know you like your privacy, but you could’ve told me you were going out with Risette.”

 

“We’re not dating,” Souji replied flatly.

 

 “Senpai,” Rise interjected, eyes and smile dazzling to everyone around them, “are these friends of yours?”

 

“That’s a word for it,” Souji muttered, becoming annoyed at being the centre of attention.

 

“Man, that’s cold Seta!” Toyama objected. Rise gave one of her patent giggles, and the basketball team leader immediately eased up.

 

“Senpai’s modest,” Rise assured them, twisting around his arm and following up with a winning smile, dazzling the group. Then she started pulling on his arm. “C’mon Senpai, let’s go.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Away. We have a lot to catch up on.”

 

Souji glanced around, knowing there wasn’t a hope that he wouldn’t see his face on the cover of a few magazines after today. Nor would anyone at school believe he wasn’t Rise’s boy toy. All his plans and alternatives went out the proverbial window, and a quote from an old history class, ironically, came to mind: _If you’re already in Hell, keep walking._ “Sure. Let’s go.” They made it through the crowd and headed toward the street, packs of paparazzi and students following at varying distances. “Have a place in mind?”

 

“Anywhere that’s not here,” she replied quietly. Her voice was calmer, more level. It was Rise, tofu store worker and Investigation Team member who was speaking, not Risette the celebrity and pop idol.

 

They were approaching the road when Souji, having pulled on his shades with Rise still perched on his arm, started taking stock of the people around him. The way to the street was clear, but he heard shuffling and footsteps behind and around him that coincided with their own pace too well to not be following them closely. “How’s your cardio?”

 

They were near the intersection, and traffic was starting to slow down. On the other side, there weren’t many people on the streets. “Hm?”

 

“Running.”

 

“I’ve been keeping up. Why?”

 

Souji adjusted his bag strap and took another look around. Enough space for what he had in mind. “Just follow my lead. Talk about something.” Rise immediately, for the benefit of their audience, started talking about essentially nothing, letting Souji glance around more. Discretely, he started flexing his feet and calves as they walked.

 

The walk signal at the other side of the intersection turned green. They waited until the light was about to turn yellow before starting to cross the street, ignoring the noise from the cars.

 

“Ready?” he asked, expression unchanged.

 

“Whenever you are, Senpai.”

 

“Then...” They finished crossing the street and turned down the sidewalk. “Go!”

 

Rise almost stumbled beside him when he kicked off, but was soon right beside him, or close, as they bolted down the sidewalk, weaving in and out of people and, miraculously, never once crashing into someone. They ignored the shouts of fans and paparazzi and kept running. They went down sidewalks, through allies, and even jumped a fence just because it was there. Neither was left behind, and both fell into the familiar motions from the days of the murders.

 

For Souji, it was exercise he’d missed of late. For Rise, it was freedom, if only for a little while. Either way, neither could keep the smile off their face or the laughs contained as they ran.

 

They’d gone about four blocks before they came to a halt, by then more for the heady rush than trying to lose the paparazzi and fans. The walls of a side alley held them up as they struggled to breathe, laughter shaking them as much as exertion. Several attempts were made to speak, but were drowned by more fits of mirth, Rise’s light and airy giggles tangling with Souji’s deeper chuckles and laughs. Passersby glanced curiously at the oddly-matched pair, but no shouts of “Look, it’s Risette!” bothered them. Indeed, Rise’s hair was coming out of its usual pig tails and some of her makeup was running, hiding the celebrity behind the mussed mask of a normal high school girl.

 

“I needed that!” she exclaimed when she caught her breath.

 

Souji smiled, still buzzing on his runner’s high. “I thought you were enjoying work again?”

 

“I am,” she assured him instantly. “I really am. But the interviews and questions, the photo shoots, they can get boring after a while. Especially when so many magazines are trying to show Risette the same as she was before her break.”

 

“I see. Sometimes you need to run, feel the wind in your face.”

 

“I knew you’d understand, Senpai. So, c’mon,” she took her usual place, wrapped around his arm.

 

Souji glanced around the corner, and frowned when he noticed some of the paparazzi looking frantically around near the street corner. “We’ll need to make a few adjustments first.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“They’re still around, and neither of us would blend in very well right now.” He gestured to her pull-over and skirt, designer brand and distinctive, and his own silver hair.

 

“Any ideas?”

 

He pulled a water bottle and a handkerchief from his bag and handed them over. “Here.” Rise wiped off her makeup and adjusted her hair. Souji thought for a moment, then began pulling off his gloves.

 

“Hey, Senpai? Don’t suppose you have lipstick in there?” Souji quirked an eyebrow and shook his head. “Ah well. What next?” He grabbed the ball cap he’d been given earlier and pulled it on reverse, taking care to tuck his hair up as he did. Rise let out an angry grunt when she saw the picture on it. “Kanamin, Senpai?”

 

“What?”

 

“That’s Kanamin’s logo! Why didn’t you get one of mine?”

 

“It was given to me. I swear,” he replied when she glared suspiciously at him.

 

“Hmph. Fine. What else?”

 

“Wear this.” He handed her his school jacket, the collar deliberately folded over to cover the school crest.

 

“That’s way too big, Senpai. Nobody’ll think it’s mine.”

 

“No, they’ll think it’s mine. That’s the point.” He glanced at his arm wrappings before rolling his sleeves down, carefully linking the cuffs. Then he adjusted the strap on his bag and slung it over a shoulder. “So?”

 

She had to admit it looked good. His hair covered and gloves off, he was just handsome rather than distinctive. Perhaps his eyes and brows would stand out, but people would need to get close to notice. And she, when she put on his jacket (she sniffed deeply at the collar, inhaling his distinct scent and cologne) and fixed her hair, felt more like she did in Inaba than a celebrity. “Okay, what now?”

 

He slipped his left hand, scarred as it was, into his pocket and cocked his head toward the sidewalk, slipping his shades back on. When she got beside him, he shocked her by wrapping his other arm across her back and lightly gripping her waist. She shivered a little at the feel of his fingers on her hip. “Now, we find some place quiet to catch up.”

 

Whether it was his faith in the plan or the plan itself, they made their way through the crowds toward one of her favourite restaurants. After the first minute or two, she relaxed against his side and leaned her head against his shoulder, wrapping her own arm around his back. People moved around them and bumped into them like they were a normal teenage couple, never sparing a second glance. She was sure she even saw a reporter looking around frantically as they passed, looking right past them.

 

When they got to the restaurant, they took a booth away from the window, and Souji handed her his phone so she could text Inoue, telling him what the situation was. “I feel bad, making him cover for all my stunts,” she admitted when she finished, glancing at the display screen on his phone; a photo of him and Nanako from before he’d left. It looked like it’d been taken at the gazebo along the Samegawa, and Nanako was laughing, perched on her Big Bro’s shoulders and arms outstretched like she was flying.

 

“I doubt he minds that much,” Souji replied, right hand clasped over his left. “He might even be enjoying the work.”

 

“Hm. Well, you never know, right? Hey, how’re the others doing? I never have the time to talk to them.”

 

“To quote Yosuke and Kanji, everything’s pretty quiet. In a good way, I think.”

 

“You just got back from Inaba yourself, didn’t you?”

 

He nodded as the waitress dropped off their drinks. “Everything seems like they say it is, but I was so busy that I’m not a reliable source. That said, Nanako’s back to normal, Kanji’s working out of his textiles shop, Naoto’s decided to stay there for a while, and so on. Chie’s been focusing on getting onto the police force, and has had the time to get her grades up, or so she says.” Rise laughed in response to Souji’s chuckle. “So when you take all that into account, it really does feel like everything’s gone back to normal.”

 

“That’s... I dunno. I’ll always think of Inaba as the place where the murders happened, and where I met all of you, y’know?”

 

“I know the feeling. It’s strange how quiet it is there.”

 

“And Yukiko-senpai? You met with her, I’m sure.”

 

Their food came, and Souji used the time to think over his responses. He wasn’t blind, or particularly thick, so he knew Rise’s affections were more than her being friendly. Cautiously, he ventured an answer. “She’s doing well. She’s working at the Inn and on the side, same as before. And I met her parents while I was there.”

 

She perked up. “Really? What are they like?”

 

“Her mother’s not what I expected. Stronger. And a lot more cunning. And her father... I don’t think he likes me very much. To put it lightly.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“He’s dealt with other suitors before, so I think he believes I’m not much different from anyone else he’s been subjected to in the past.”

 

Rise frowned, a little growl building in her chest. “That’s not fair, Senpai. Not to you.”

 

“He doesn’t know me. It makes sense why he’d think that way, really.”

 

“He should give you an opportunity, at least. Hasn’t Yukiko-senpai said anything to him about it?”

 

“Of course she has. To hear Chie and the other staff say it, I’m all she’s talked about for months. That’s probably the problem.”

 

“Hmph. Jerk.” Souji chuckled but remained silent. They dug into their respective dishes, turning over the information they’d gotten in the exchange. “So what’ve you been up to, Senpai? How come we haven’t gotten together lately?”

 

“You’re working out of Tokyo,” he replied, ginger beef hovering over the bowl. “It’s not like Kofu’s just around the corner.”

 

“That’s not a very good reason.”

 

“No,” he agreed without breaking his stride, “but very few of the reasons I could use are good. And the truth is pretty boring.”

 

“Try me.”

 

“I doubt you’d be interested. No need to hear about my home life.”

 

“You never know. I’m always looking for good song material, and drama at home’s a topic everyone can relate to.”

 

Souji eyed her cautiously. “You’re serious.”

 

“We’re friends, Senpai. You said it yourself. And that road goes both ways.”

 

He chuckled. “Yukiko said something similar.”

 

“She’s smart. And you’re ignoring my question.”

 

After letting out a long-suffering sigh, and receiving no sympathy or quarter from the surprisingly sober and steely-eyed starlet, he told her the truth. Why he’d dodged her offers to visit his home, why his new friends were kept in the dark about his parents, or Inaba as a whole. How his old habits were still on the fringe of his new life, and his tepid relationship with his parents had remained mostly room temperature. “And that’s it. My grand tale of change and defiance.”

 

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You can’t change how other people are.”

 

“So, did all that change anything?”

 

“Not really,” she admitted, “but this might. I’ll be staying in Kofu for the rest of the school semester.”

 

Souji’s eyebrows rose. “Are things not working out of Tokyo? Or have you enrolled in a school here?”

 

“No, nothing’s changed from before, but Tokyo’s full of idols and stars, y’know? The outlying districts have better prices at the venues, better booking times, and a very appreciative audience. So I’ll be going back to Tokyo every now and again, but Inoue-san wants to try working here.”

 

“You don’t say.”

 

She nodded cheerfully. “Yep. So you’ve got no excuse to not kill some time with me, right Senpai?”

 

He chuckled. “I think I can live with that.”

 

“Good.” Souji’s phone lit up, and Rise took it when the name ‘Inoue’ flashed across the screen. “I guess we should be getting back.”

 

“It won’t be the only time. I’m not as busy with clubs and rescue missions like in Inaba, so we’ll definitely do this again.”

 

She looked at him with enormous eyes, slightly pouting lips, and a face that was clearly pleading and impossible to say ‘no’ to. “Promise?”

 

He chuckled. “Yep. I’ll need your help getting something in a month or two anyway.”

 

“Ooooh, a gift? A present for me, Senpai?”

 

“Well, something like that.” He got the bill from the waitress and paid it over Rise’s objections. Then they rose and headed out the door, and he offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

 

Their return trip was slower than their egress. They’d taken their time, stopped to talk and argue and discuss their days in Inaba. They waited for a time at the corner before the exhibition grounds, Souji to reacquire and fix his jacket and put on his gloves, Rise to put her hair into her trademark pig tails. When they did arrive, she broke away with a ‘See you later’ and took a back door into the dressing rooms to raid the make-up cabinet. Souji watched her enter the pavilion and slipped around the main stages to rejoin the students milling about. He ran across Takenaka before the others could ambush him, she of the raised eyebrow and crossed arms and cocked hip and prominent bust. “Takenaka,” Souji greeted casually.

 

“You really can’t help but make trouble, can you? First you turn down half the girls at school-“

 

“It wasn’t that many.”

 

“-And then you run off with a celebrity in front of half the paparazzi in town for more than an hour.”

 

“Rise’s a friend.”

 

“Right. You think it’s going to stay here? We’re going to hear about it at school for months.”

 

“What does it matter? Why are you so interested?” She was silent. “What?”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“Still angry at Toyama?”

 

“It’s nothing!”

 

“Alright, fair enough.”

 

She eyed him soberly, then grunted and shrugged, turning back to the group. “Things really do happen around you, don’t they? You make things interesting, Seta.”

 

The crowds rustled and rippled, noise whipping around them in ways. The lights came on at the stages, with _“Yoo hoo. Heeeere’s Risette!!”_ blaring over the speakers as she ran out on stage. The applause was deafening, but the cheers were physically painful.

 

Behind the swarming mass of people, Souji watched as she captured the hearts of the crowd before her second verse was over. He caught her eye and smile every now and again, and tilted his head back to stare skyward.

 

_Interesting. That’s a word for it._


	11. Chapter 11

For those whose everyday vocabulary doesn’t include “nacre”, it’s just a different name for mother of pearl. Oh, and I’m playing with the timeline a little in this chapter, where Rise meets up with the team after her rescue, but before King Moron’s murder and Teddie’s transformation where she becomes an official member.

 

With that said, go forth and enjoy.

 

**Chapter 11**

“We’ll be by to pick you up tomorrow at 9, Rise-san. Sleep well.”

 

“Thanks Inoue-san. You too.”

 

There was the sound of a retreating set of footsteps, the _ding_ of an arriving elevator and a _whoosh_ of closing doors. Then a sigh and the rattle of keys in the lock. The door opened and the lights snapped on as she murmured a faint “welcome home” to herself, standing, as always, in the doorway to take in her surroundings.

 

For anyone who really knew Rise, a group which consisted of the Inaba crew, her parents, Inoue, and a small handful of agency employees that could say and spell ‘discretion’, her apartment would not have felt like what they would’ve expected from Risette. Surveys were polled and fan mail had come to a consensus of how the public thought she lived. Risette’s apartment would have been flashy and bright, possibly gaudy in its layers of colour and posters and pictures and plushy collections. Hot guys would grace the walls, of course, be they actors or athletes or singers whose trademarks were open shirts and low-riding jeans. It would have expensive oak furniture, calfskin leather couches and chairs, and a sound system with more output than a radio tower and a higher decibel threshold than a jet engine. Her bedroom would be large, spacious, have mirrors everywhere and be home to makeup and moisturizers by the litre, all surrounding a king-sized bed made for comfort and salacious encounters, set across from a wardrobe larger than the average apartment, the contents of which would cost more than the net income of most auto manufacturers. And her bathroom, without question, would be hand-cleaned and polished twice a day, have a different scent each week, and be sheathed in white marble and nacre. Nothing less would do for Risette.

 

The reality was different.

 

There were posters, yes, but they were of her albums and photo shoots, stored away in a container to be kept for posterity and looked at when she desired. Which wasn’t often. The various autographs and photos of male idols and actors she’d received over the course of her career were kept in the same place, though she’d admit to looking at those more often than the posters. Some of those guys were kinda cute.

 

The walls themselves were decorated as much as they needed to be, colourful and chic in the same breath. Shelves and mantles held up long strings of fan mail that had been a steady source of encouragement over the years, the ones that had become irreplaceable earning their own spots along the wall, surviving every move without fail. And her stereo system was modest, often tuned to something fast-paced and unapologetically girly. Something she could dance to. And there weren’t any plushies here; those were in the bedroom.

 

Though her furniture was oak, polished and sturdy. And the couch and seats were calfskin leather, so soft it was like sitting on a thick, fluffy cloud. Her agency had insisted on that luxury, for tax purposes if nothing else.

 

The bedroom wasn’t nearly as large as some of her fans would have expected, though the king-sized bed was there, in the middle. Though, again, not as rich or luxurious as her fans thought was appropriate to her. Nor was it home to any intimate encounters, as her sex-starved admirers believed, nor her more vindictive competitors declared. The bedroom as a whole was, however, where one would find her plushy collection, taking up a corner, table, and end of the bed, as much a measure of her life as a chronological biography. The larger ones were invariably yellow and pink, from just before she’d had her audition. Then medium-sized and white with bows or hats for when she was getting started, which led to them being large in size again after her first album and part in a TV series. Most recently, she’d tended towards the smaller and more varied in form, from blues and green for the sports plushies to the blacks and greys and oranges of her cat collection. There was even a corner for the various bird dolls she’d been given over the years after she’d been caught on record saying the owl exhibit at the Kyoto zoo had been her favourite part of the trip.

 

That said, her favourites were the ones perched on her vanity, next to the moisturizers and makeup. There was a line of them, all hand-crafted from Tatsumi Textiles as a going-away present from Kanji, that was in the shape of every member of the Inaba Investigation Team, from Yosuke-senpai and his trademark headphones to a green Chie-senpai and blue Teddie, complete with bear outfit. They were all crafted with exquisite detail, though her favourite in its simplicity was the plushy of Souji-senpai, a perfect mimicry right down to the coloured arm wraps and grey hair and eyes. Every time she looked at it she heard his calm encouragement in her ear, and it was better than therapy at making her find her centre and shrug off her worries.

 

And for the record, she didn’t use much makeup or moisturizer; her vanity table was the only place in the room where it was held, largely limited to her favourites since they had to share the space with her Inaba plushies. Also, her wardrobe was comparatively sparse, almost half made up of her everyday clothes and nightwear. Most of the clothes and makeup and creams she was given by sponsors were kept at the office, as much for her own consideration about space as anything.

 

Coming back to herself, she started the motions of her post-work day ritual by kicking off her shoes and walking into her living room. She checked her handheld for messages, then the calendar, and then the phone to make sure nothing had changed. Then she ordered take-out from her favourite restaurant, set to be delivered in two hours. She looked around her living room, taking comfort in the stability of her image and ego outside her body, brushing her fingers along some of her favourite fan letters before heading to the window. Kofu had a prettier skyline than Tokyo, she decided. The stars weren’t easy to see like they were in some parts of Inaba, but nor was there a blue-grey haze surrounding the skyscrapers and office buildings. She could see the sky without fear for her health, and that was well worth the hassle of moving so soon after her return from Inaba.

 

She gazed out the window and let her mind wander back to that morning with a naughty little smirk. Never far from her thoughts, seeing him made her appreciate the view all over again, bringing old feelings and memories to the front of her mind. Souji-senpai had looked good. Better than good. Nonchalant as always, dark slacks emphasizing a white shirt that did great things to his chest and shoulders, silver hair combed back, and oh-so-sexy in those black shades and half-smile. She hadn’t bothered to resist running into him when she saw him. And what she felt with her arms around him was even better than looking; he’d been working out since the end of their TV adventures.

 

His escape plan had been just what she needed then, and he hadn’t disappointed. Running beside him was a thrill she’d missed, and talking with him had been even better. She never felt like she needed to guess if he was listening to her, or just using the time she was speaking to bask in glow of an idol. Souji-senpai always listened, even when she was feeling playful and got him to blush.

 

She frowned then. The revelation about his home life shed some light on his reluctance to talk about who he was before he’d moved to Inaba. It had been a topic she’d wondered about, and she apparently wasn’t the only one as she’d asked the others about it, and they’d been similarly dodged or stonewalled. It was hard to believe that someone so kind and understanding would have the distant parents he’d described. But maybe that was the point.

 

_Oh well_. She’d make sure they spent more time together, now that she knew where and how to find him. She sniffed delicately and turned her nose up. Good day or not, she needed to get rid of the crusted grime she’d collected from a day of singing on an outdoor stage. She headed toward her bathroom, determined that Souji-senpai could keep her company in the shower.

 

Her bathroom was neither marble nor nacre. Instead it had polished dark tiles on the floor and an equally dark countertop, white towel racks and faucets that led to a large stand-up shower unit, big enough to sit down and relax in should the mood strike. Only her favourite scents, either eucalyptus or grapefruit, graced her shower walls, and while the towels were as soft as the leather in her couch, the rest of the room was simple and unadorned. No statues, no multi-coloured lights, no collection of expensive soaps, no water-proof stereo to lull her away on the sound of dolphins or the forest wind.

 

She kicked the door shut and stripped naked, tossing the clothes into the nearby hamper before turning on and adjusting the water, stepping under the warm spray after she’d taken out her hair ties. The shower was a welcome diversion, warming her up and peeling away layer upon layer of sweat and dust. As the steam rose around her and caressed her every curve, it heated up her thoughts as well. It hadn’t been a mistake, that she’d clung to Souji-senpai the way she had. Having him pressed against her, every muscle and tendon of his toned torso against her breasts and abdomen, after she’d run into him was a guiltless little pleasure: she didn’t think anything that felt that good could be wrong. Nor was her usual place at his side, wrapped around an arm with the length of the limb along her front, a mistake or coincidence. Being near him made her feel like an irrepressible girl and a mature woman at the same time, neither fighting for the spotlight and instead existing in the same place and working together. The combination was strange but potent, letting her see herself more clearly and able to move forward with an energy she’d never had before.

 

Rise didn’t know how he made her feel that way, whether it was the way he talked to her and treated her like a close and trusted friend, or if it was just something ingrained into who and what he was that he had no control over. It was uplifting, to think beyond the measure of a doubt that she could do what she set out to, because people believed in her. It was addicting, so much so that she never wanted it to stop no matter how fast it felt like she was going sometimes. And while she might not know how Souji-senpai had affected her so deeply, she did know when it started. The memory sent a shiver through her despite the wet heat around her. It made her eyes glaze over and her thighs twitch together and her nipples harden and her breath catch for a heartbeat.

 

**_Flashback_ **

 

It had been a hot day in Inaba and the Investigation Team, their egos still orbiting Jupiter from having rescued Rise so promptly, had gathered at Chie-senpai’s house for a well-deserved party. Rise, done dodging questions by the cops and media, had recovered enough that Yosuke-senpai had spontaneously invited her to the get-together. She’d hesitated at first; she knew very little about them, and didn’t know how to act around people who’d known her for less than two weeks and hadn’t asked for anything in return despite what they’d gone through to rescue her. Furthermore, besides Yosuke-senpai’s offer, none of them had brought up the matter of repayment for saving her. Or even stopped by to talk beyond a “how are you doing?”, for that matter. Still, his insistence was more coherent than he’d been the first time he saw her, and she had the day off work and no real reason not to go, so she grabbed her phone and shades and followed him into the summer sunlight. She hadn’t felt comfortable trying small talk with Yosuke-senpai, and he’d had no problem filling the time with descriptions of the team, so she listened and committed each detail to memory.

 

Before she knew it they’d arrived at a normal-looking, larger-than-average house, voices and shouts and barks and laughter greeting them. They hadn’t even made it to the door when Chie-senpai called out and told them to come around back. Yosuke-senpai led, Rise followed, and soon they saw the rest of the Investigation Team, plus a few additions. The tall guy with the black skull-adorned muscle shirt and bleached hair was sitting on the patio, busily eating out of a bucket-sized bowl. Chie-senpai was in a tank top and shorts, laughing and jumping about in the middle of the yard with a water hose, playing with a large white and brown dog who was already soaking wet and completely into the game. Yukiko-senpai was in a shirt and skirt near the patio, watching the two in the yard with a smile on her face. And Souji-senpai, who she recognized immediately, was near some food platters that smelled heavenly, dressed in slacks and an airy short-sleeved shirt that set off his hair beautifully with the white wrappings around his left forearm. Rise frowned a bit; she remembered seeing those in the TV as well, meaning it probably wasn’t a coincidence. But why did he wear them in the first place?

 

Her gaze shifted when she caught sight of a young girl in a white sundress, a wide smile on her face as she sat near Souji-senpai. The smile faded a bit when she saw Rise, however, and she hesitantly stepped forward. “Um...”

 

Souji-senpai turned to see where she was looking, catching sight of her and Yosuke-senpai. “Hey. Welcome.” He glanced down at the young girl with a smile. “It’s alright Nanako. You know Yosuke already. The young lady’s Kujikawa Rise-san, a new friend of ours.”

 

_A friend?_

 

Nanako looked less concerned and smiled warmly. “Okay, Big Bro. Hi Kujikawa-san, I’m Dojima Nanako. Pleasure to meet you.” It was smoothly and calmly delivered, and didn’t lack for depth like she’d heard so often from other stars and agents. The words sounded like they should belonged to a young woman in her early twenties rather than a girl less than the age of ten.

 

It broke the ice, and was so unexpected and unexpectedly welcome that Rise couldn’t help but lean down and take the girl’s hands. “Hi!” she replied immediately. “I’m Kujikawa Rise. And the pleasure’s mine. Nanako-chan, right? Then you’re Seta-senpai’s little sister?”

 

“The relation’s a bit more distant than that,” Souji-senpai explained, still working over the platters. “Nanako’s the daughter of my mother’s brother, so she’s my first cousin.”

 

“But he’s better than a cousin!” Nanako put in, breaking away from Rise and catching Souji-senpai in a hug. “He’s my Big Bro! Come over here, Kujikawa-san. Big Bro made lunch today! And he’s a amazing cook!”

 

From behind the pair there was a barely-restrained belch. The tall guy with the bleached hair came over, massive bowl empty and in hand. “Excellent as always, Senpai. You got any more of that teriyaki beef?”

 

Souji-senpai nodded. “Right there. You may want to dish up if you’re hungry, Kujikawa-san,” he told her. “We brought a lot over, but it’s not going to last at this rate.” She nodded and helped herself to the pickled vegetables and rice balls that looked distinctly like curled-up cats and seasoned koi.

 

She couldn’t suppress her surprise. “You’re right Nanako-chan. This food is amazing!”

 

The girl nodded proudly. “Yep. Big Bro’s the best cook in Inaba.”

 

“An exaggeration, I’m sure,” he replied. “But it’s a useful skill to have.” He and Nanako chatted amiably over their food while Kanji dished up again. Rise couldn’t help eating slowly; she wanted to stop chewing so she could better watch the pair, so clearly at ease with the other, and yet the food was too good to put down.

 

“C’mon Big Bro!” Nanako told him after they’d finished their dishes, dragging him into the yard. She started twirling and jumping around Chie-senpai’s dog, laughing uncontrollably. Souji-senpai joined her, albeit with less body movements, and seemed content while he watched his cousin. Yosuke-senpai called to him, and the two started talking in lower tones, taking their attention from Nanako-chan and the dog. Their discussion seemed deep enough that they didn’t notice the dog rushing past the little girl until he crashed between them.

 

Yosuke-senpai was knocked back with a startled shout. Souji-senpai, caught between a soaking dog and the wet grass, staggered back, just barely keeping his balance.

 

Only it put him square in the path of the water hose Chie-senpai was waving around.

 

His face and shirt were soaked before Chie-senpai realized what’d happened and turned the hose away. He’d let out a shout of surprise and was trembling by the time the hose was redirected. His hair was dripping and his shirt had turned translucent and clung to his body. There was a moment of silence before he started laughing, a deep, clear sound that Rise suspected wasn’t commonly heard. He rocked his head back and ran a hand through his hair and Rise got her first close look at his body then, unobstructed by body armour or a school jacket. And it took her breath away.

 

Broad shoulders and a strong back, defined biceps, clear muscle across his chest and a stomach so tight she swore she could wash her frilly unmentionables on it. Even his slack had gotten wet and stuck to a tight, toned butt. She glanced away quickly, hopefully before he saw her gawking, and noticed a distinct blush on Yukiko-senpai’s cheeks as she stared as well. She heard Chie-senpai apologizing and tossing the water hose away, but Souji-senpai kept laughing and brushed it off. He stripped the water from his hair, dove for the discarded hose, and started aiming at Yosuke-senpai and Chie-senpai, both who started running to avoid the spray and ended up crashing into each other, her sprawled atop him on the grass. Souji-senpai hadn’t bothered spraying them when he had the chance; Chie-senpai’s indignant shout at where Yosuke-senpai’s hands ended up was all the entertainment they needed.

 

Discussions were struck up, laughter bounced around the yard, and any topic of the TV world was stringently avoided. Yukiko-senpai and Souji-senpai discussed cooking techniques, Chie-senpai and Nanako-chan were in deep discussion, and Yosuke-senpai said something to Kanji-san that sparked up a loud and nearly violent response. Despite it all, they always returned to their easy companionship, and she knew then that these people were more than just comrades who shared a common goal, but instead were genuine friends who went out of their way to connect with those who shared the same purpose. She knew instinctively how out of place she was there, having no real connection, in her mind, to them. She was envious, and couldn’t help but feel a bit left out.

 

Until Nanako-chan saw her and drew her into the discussion with Chie-senpai. Then the feeling was gone.

 

The day progressed from there, and it was time to leave before Chie-senpai’s parents got home. Yukiko-senpai stayed to help clean up, Souji-senpai left with Nanako-chan, and Yosuke-senpai and Kanji-san walked her part of the way home before going their separate ways.

 

For all that had happened in the day, she wasn’t ready to see it end. She sat on a bench near the shrine, turning the day’s events over in her head as she made shapes out of the clouds overhead.

 

“Kujikawa-san?” She startled in her seat, looking over sharply to see Souji-senpai standing a few yards away. The heat had mostly dried out his hair and shirt, though the creases still clung to his muscled frame. “Everything alright?”

 

“Ah, Seta-senpai. Yeah, everything’s fine. Just needed a place to think.”

 

“I see. Care for some company?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I forgot to mention something back there, so I figure this is as good a time as any.”

 

“Ah, sure. Have a seat.” She scooted to the end of the bench, leaving him room to sit.

 

She squirmed a little, still remembering how he’d looked soaking wet, but also struggling with her own shyness and uncertainty of how to talk to a boy who’d put so much at risk for her sake with neither reservation nor a clear motive. She hadn’t taken the time to talk to him much at the party for the same reason. He, on the other hand, looked as calm as ever. He glanced at her, apparently oblivious to her dilemma, and then stared out over the roofs and into the sky. “How’re you doing?”

 

She jolted a bit at the question. “Sorry?”

 

“The others can be a bit energetic at times,” he explained. “Chie and Yosuke in particular. It can take some getting used to.”

 

“They seem like great people,” she volunteered.

 

“Oh they are. Don’t get me wrong, all of them are better friends than you could ask for. But if you’re used to staying on the edge instead of being part of the group, well, it could take a while to find your place.”

 

“Do you speak from experience, Senpai?”

 

He nodded, still not looking straight at her. “I doubt I’d be where I am if not for Chie and Yosuke. They pulled me into something that turned out to be way bigger than all of us combined.” He chuckled, a small smile curling his lips at the edges, and Rise melted a little at the sight. “It’s been thrilling, it’s been terrifying, and it’s taken over my life more than any after-school club could’ve. But they’re good people, no matter what happens.”

 

“Gotcha.”

 

Now he looked at her, silver eyes catching sunlight and almost glowing at her like festival lanterns. “Which brings us back to my question: how’re you doing?”

 

“I’m...” She struggled with her words, uncertain how honest she could be. “It’s different,” she told him finally. “Not in a good or bad way, but I never expected to be at the centre of attention or meet people this fast when I moved here. Especially not since all of you saw... well, you know.”

 

He nodded. “Give it time. And don’t forget that all of them have been through the same thing.”

 

“Their repressed selves created strip clubs and spun around on a pole for complete strangers?”

 

He laughed, an expression that lit up his face. “Well, the details are different, but it wasn’t any easier, regardless of the form it took. All of them faced their Shadows and denied them at first, and those Shadows tried to kill us.”

 

That caught her attention. Part of her, a big part, was torn when she saw the wounds and burns the team had sustained, injuries caused because of the repressed feelings that she’d never come to terms with. “All of them?”

 

He nodded and held up his left arm, tapping his arm wraps. “Yukiko gave me this, a little something our Personas can’t heal. She couldn’t accept what her other half said, and it blew up on us. Kanji’s still working out what he saw in his Shadow, too.”

 

“What was his like?”

 

“That’s... Better that you ask him. It’s kind of an unspoken rule, at least for me.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

 

“No worries. But even Yosuke and Chie had their dark sides, no matter how they act now. And I doubt they’ll forget it, too.” He sighed, gazing off into the distance again. “I’m sorry. This is getting away from what I wanted to talk to you about.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Kanji went through this same sort of thing before, and I’ll tell you what I told him. None of us got through our encounters unscathed. Facing yourself and coming to terms with it will be hard at first, but don’t forget that there’s a group of people who’ve been through the same things you have, that no matter what the antics or games, we’ve all been at our worst. And we know how it feels, before, during and after. It might take a while, but they’ll accept you for who you are, good and bad. No matter what.”

 

It was frightening, in a way, how well he’d hit the issue she’d worried about. Finding something in common with other celebrities had been hard enough, especially when so many saw her as competition. Finding anyone who’d been through what she had in the TV and understanding the fear, the anger, and rampant shame that had forced the words from her lips, she was certain, was an impossibility. And yet he’d been there, seen it all, and never treated her worse for it. If anything, he seemed more open and expressive than he had when she met him at the tofu shop. It took her several moments to find her breath and words. “You... you really think so?”

 

He nodded. “It would be pretty hypocritical if we went through the same things you did, but didn’t accept you despite not doing any better. Besides, knowing Yosuke and Chie, they’ll find a way to welcome you into the group.”

 

“... I’d really like that.”

 

He looked back at her, a half smile gracing his lips that might’ve been sarcastic if not for the gleam in his eyes, genuine pleasure that couldn’t be faked. “Good. Now then, shall we?”

 

He’d walked her home, chatting about Inaba and his little cousin in that calm, comforting voice that made her want to curl up in a corner and sleep to it washing over her. He left her on her doorstep, saying he had to get home himself. For a singer and occasional actor, she was at a loss for words to say, to tell him how grateful she was for his assurances and what the afternoon, both at Chie-senpai’s house and that he’d sought her out to make a connection, had meant to her. She never found them, and he’d walked away with a farewell wave.

 

And weeks later, with the news of another murder and a grim pall over the team, when they’d met at the shrine and he’d handed her a pair of glasses, she felt something she hadn’t felt in years. Not a weight off her shoulders or the click of a key in the lock, but just a marrow-deep sensation of belonging, of calm focus and iron determination. She knew she wanted to be there, fighting with them, with him. And nothing had felt more right than when he’d nodded at her question and told her “Welcome to the team.” She wanted to feel that way for as long as she could, no matter what.

 

**_End Flashback_ **

****

The memories ended, pulling her to the present, though the body-wide tingling remained. Every nerve came alive, and she washed herself carefully, having no desire to over stimulate into pleasure or pain. The scent of eucalyptus surrounded her, adding a dreamy tinge to the memories before she pushed them away and continued her shower.

 

Rise finished washing the shampoo from her hair and dried her body off, slipping into a soft bath robe. She towelled the water from her hair and let it dry on its own. She returned to the living room and sank back into her couch, let her mind wander more before dinner was delivered. When it did, she made a point of hitching her robe around her and flirting with the delivery boy. Dinner was as enjoyable as ever, and she spent the evening on the phone with Inoue and some of the agency staff. Afterwards, she turned off the lights and headed to bed, shedding her robe and slipping into a lacy pair of panties and a soft, silky nightgown. Even against her bed, in the comforting dark surrounded by her plushies, she thought of Senpai one last time.

 

_You’re the first guy who saw me for me, Senpai. You never talked to me like I was a ditz or treated me like an idol.  I could be normal around you, talk about anything, and you’d always be honest. You might not think so, but you’re smart, funny, easy to talk to, and absolutely gorgeous. You’re really amazing in every way._

_I love you, Senpai._

_But..._


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 

Souji knew there would be fallout from his day with Rise. It was inevitable. Even if he had an unlisted phone number (which he didn’t), or didn’t have a residence with his name plate on it (which he did), or even had classmates who didn’t know anything about him and thus couldn’t, or even wouldn’t, say anything to the press (which wasn’t the case), the world of entertainment was simply too pervasive and resourceful for him to remain in the background. Rise running into him the way she did was damning enough, but his plan to run from the press only escalated the rumours and conjecture, and what his classmates thought, suspected, guessed, and simply didn’t know, they gladly told to anyone with a paper pad and voice recorder.

 

Rise had sent him a text the following morning, saying that she’d try to keep him out of the limelight, but bluntly, for her, telling him that it’d be a while before the matter blew over. Souji sighed and thanked her for the thought, but did so while passing by a magazine stand and seeing his face on no less than 8 separate covers. He’d had to adjust his route to school twice to avoid the places most commonly chosen by the magazine vendors just to get to class on time. He’d at least been able to pre-empt some of the press question by calling his phone service provider and telling them, with his father’s voice, that none of the numbers belonging to the paparazzi were to be connected. It was going to take a few explanations, he knew, but it beat having the phone ringing off the hook all hours of the day. He was also infinitely grateful that no one at school had his cell number. Requests for it had started the minute the bus doors had closed at the exhibition grounds, and more than a few of his peers learned just how little he appreciated being incessantly bothered, no matter their gender.

 

And had his infamy been restricted to Kofu or Tokyo, if one could call that restricted, then at least he would have maintained some measure of solace in Inaba. He’d even tried to head off any damage by calling Yukiko that night and explaining what had happened, somewhat surprised by how well she took it and how he couldn’t hear any jealousy in her voice. But four days after the exhibition he’d gotten a call from Nanako, her bubbling over in excitement, having found her Big Bro and Rise-chan together on a magazine cover. Even days later he still cringed at the memory; that had taken some fast talking, not to mention a long phone call to Dojima that had started out incredulous, then disintegrated to the elder of the two laughing at and baiting his nephew at every chance. It had been humbling, to be sure, but also helped Souji get the affair out of his system – having someone laugh at his misfortunes and showing just how amusing they could be was surprisingly cathartic.

 

 

“Seriously dude,” Yosuke chuckled over the phone the next day, “you just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?”

 

“It’s not like I planned it, Yosuke. Well, not the first part.”

 

He chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like Rise. Still, it’s almost like old times around here again.”

 

“What? How so?”

 

“I can’t turn a corner at work without seeing you on a magazine stand or hearing about you in the streets. Those kids you got so popular with at the daycare, a bunch of the girls at school, and even a few teachers have come through talking about you. I mean, you should hear Teddie right now. He hasn’t sat still or stopped talking about you since the first mag came in. It’s like you never left.”

 

Souji twitched a little in his seat; he was sure he could hear the grin on Yosuke’s face. “You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”

 

“Nope. Not a bit.”

 

“Yeah, thanks Yosuke.”

 

“Hey, any time. So when’re you coming back?”

 

“After exams are over in December, I imagine. Have to decide which universities to apply to and how I’m gonna get there.”

 

Yosuke caught his tone right away. “Not looking forward to it?”

 

“I’m expecting my parents to try to play a role in that. I’m a little surprised they haven’t tried yet, honestly. My parents both went to Tokyo U, so I’m sure I’ll be hearing about it soon enough”

 

“You could always take the exams by correspondence, you know.”

 

“True, but are there any good tutors or cram schools in Inaba?”

 

“Never know where you can find talent, and I hear a lot of them are working online now. Might be a way around the distance issue.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

The front door to the Seta residence snapped open. “Souji!” his father called.

 

“Well speak of the devil,” Souji muttered calmly. “Yosuke, I’ll have to call you back.”

 

“Uh, sure. Good luck with... well, whatever.”

 

He disconnected the call and stood up. “Yes Father?”

 

A magazine was tossed to the table, sliding to a stop in front of him. “What is this?” his father demanded.

 

Souji picked it up and immediately recognized the cover. It was one of the many he disliked, not just because of the cheesy “Possible Father to Risette’s Child! Has She Been Keeping a Pregnancy Secret?!” plastered from corner to corner, but because the angle and lighting on him was shoddy and second-rate. He was taller than the photo made him look, and there was no way his nose looked like _that_ -

 

“Souji,” his father snapped, his face dark with anger. “I want an explanation. What are you doing with this floozy, and why are you on every teen magazine cover?”

 

Souji bristled, facing his father head-on. “Rise’s not a floozy. She’s a friend.”

 

“Do your friends often publicly humiliate you like this?”

 

“Unique circumstances, Father. The media’s blowing it out of proportion.”

 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

 

“We met in Inaba, and she’s an idol. She saw me at the actor’s exhibition a little bit ago and decided to say ‘Hello’.”

 

“That’s her way of saying ‘Hello’, Souji? She’s made you a national spectacle, and this reflects upon me. And the article says you ran from the exhibition grounds and didn’t come back until hours later.”

 

Souji let a bleak smile cross his face, not willing to budge and finding a twisted joy in fighting with his father. “You of all people should know better than to listen to what the media say, father. I’m certain you’ve been on the receiving end of it before.”

 

“That’s beside the point,” he argued. “I was never seen being swung around on by some brain-dead underage media child.”

 

“I’m not going to repeat myself, Father,” Souji whispered dangerously. “Do not call her that again.”

 

“Don’t push me, Souji,” Yuuma replied, just as cold. “This is-“

 

“Not a discussion?” Souji finished, bordering on contempt. “And what are the repercussions this time? You can’t ground me any more than you have already have, Father.”

 

Whatever Yuuma’s response would have been was cut off by Izumi coming through the door and keying into the tension almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

 

Souji spoke up first. “Father and I were discussing the finer points of friendship and how it is addressed among the people we know.”

 

Izumi looked confused. “What?”

 

“Have you seen these?” Yuuma demanded, pointing at the magazine on the table. “They’re a disgrace!”

 

“I noticed them earlier. Souji?” she asked neutrally.

 

“Rise’s a friend, and she can get a little exuberant,” he explained to his parents coolly. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t expect her to dive offstage next time she sees me.”

 

“No, she won’t,” Yuuma snapped. “Because you’re not to have contact with her anymore.”

 

“No promises.”

 

“No, no promises. Orders. I’m the head of this household, Souji, and I will not be disrespected in my own home. You’re not to have anything to do with that girl again. Am I understood?”

 

Souji’s response would have to wait. Yuuma’s cell phone rang, a small, tinny sound under the weight of the conflicting egos. “I think that’s yours, Father.”

 

“Don’t push it, Souji. Yes?” he said into the phone. He nodded, twice, then turned toward his office, stopping halfway to turn back to his coldly smiling son. “Don’t disregard what I told you, Souji. I will not be trifled with on this matter.”

 

“The thought never crossed my mind,” was the bland reply.

 

Yuuma had to respond to the phone and continue into his office. Izumi looked speculatively at her son, but Souji snorted and fished his books from his bag and started in on his homework. _Asshole_ , he muttered to himself. He didn’t notice Izumi’s gaze or how she seemed a bit less placid from before.

**About a month later...**

 

Whether by the course of time or Rise’s own influence, Souji slipped from the spotlight and magazine covers, albeit nowhere near as fast as he’d appeared. The calls finally stopped coming, the paparazzi found someone else’s school to stake out, and Souji felt a newer, deeper disgust for entertainment media and publications that profited by shadowing celebrities. He thought he’d heard his share of petty chatter and ignorant rumour mongering from years of meetings and business parties he’d attended with his parents, but the month of conjecture and stretched truths to the outright lies taught him that office backstabbers and corporate climbers had nothing on the paparazzi.

 

The lack of fame or anything freshly incriminating calmed down his classmates, for the most part, and while pockets of them still insisted on bringing Rise into every conversation they had with him, his own icy responses kept the rumours at bay, or at least far enough away that he almost never heard them.

 

Of course, between Rise’s actions when he saw her at the exhibition and the media blowing every photo and word out of proportion, his school life, as appreciably dull as it had been, utterly refused to go back to what passed for normal. Students he’d never met before wanted to talk to him about acting agents like he had them on speed dial while, despite Takenaka’s influence, several of the girls in his class insisted on asking him how to catch attention of guys they liked, no matter how fresh the memory of his spurning so many advances was. Souji had become the go-to guy for just about everything, no matter how little sense it made to him or how often he asked, as politely as he could, where any of them got the idea to talk to him about their problems. He became thoroughly convinced that the reason none of them followed him home after school was his lack of attendance in any of the after-school clubs, to say nothing of his prompt exits from the building the moment classes were finished.

 

Of the people who had changed since that day Souji was grateful that Takenaka and Toyama weren’t on that list. Takenaka had gotten over the shock of seeing him on magazine covers and resisted, after a while, ribbing him on the matter. He’d been surprised, and a little touched, that she took the time to deny the rumours surrounding him when they got too unreal. Toyama, once he’d gotten over his bout of fanboyism so evident at the exhibition grounds, had been heard telling the rest of the basketball team to cut the chatter and focus on things that mattered. With a string of preliminary tournaments approaching fast, it wasn’t a tall order for most of them to meet.

 

Except Yuhara.

 

Souji’s face twisted into a voiceless snarl, distorting his reflection in the train window. Yuhara Hideyoshi had, despite Toyama’s insistence, made a point of bringing Rise into a discussion whenever Souji was around, typically the moment the topic turned to members of the fairer sex. Rather than the conversation focusing on her songs or idol status, they almost inevitably connected her to sex, setting Souji’s teeth on edge without fail. Speculation of her dimensions and whether they were genuine or surgically enhanced, relationship status, and a variety of other insinuations that reminded Souji immediately of the Yasogami team’s discussion of Ebihara Ai became commonplace chatter when Yuhara was around. And since so many of the team’s members were hormonally-driven male teens with levels of discretion ranging between ‘a little bit’ and ‘none at all’, it was a topic raised with an infuriating measure of frequency. Toyama, as he had before, told Souji he’d talk to them about it. Souji did one better – he stopped attending the team’s practices at school and began running and shooting hoops on the park courts on his own again, with some of the team mates seeking him out for practice, Toyama in particular. Yuhara was not among that number.

 

Souji knew he should be more mature than letting a loudmouthed braggart get under his skin, but with Toyama’s wishes to keep the team working together, at least until the next set of hurdles were overcome, it became harder and harder when said loudmouth was gaining a reputation for guts by throwing the topic in the unflappable and iron-cold transfer student’s face. Or perhaps he was just growing to hate Yuhara on a personal level, despite not knowing him for very long.

 

_(Ding) Approaching Yamanashi Station. Passengers departing at Yamanashi Station, please have your personal effects in hand. We accept no liability for lost or damaged items. I repeat..._

 

Some of the team had heard, through means he had yet to determine, that he was heading out of town for the day and happened to be going the same direction for a team meeting. Toyama convinced Souji only by promising to keep Yuhara under control and mentioning that a group ticket rate was cheaper and better for all parties involved. Thus Toyama, Takenaka, Yuhara, the coach, and a few others were on the other side of the train car, deep in discussion while Souji took in the scenery and checked his phone once more for any new messages, and he was the first one off the train when it stopped.

 

Rise was there to meet him at the station, in an open Yasogami school uniform and short-sleeved shirt with very little make up, though her hair was up in its usual pigtails. She greeted him with her usual “ _Hey Senpai!”_ before walking over. She caught sight of the group behind him, and while her smile never budged, her eyes did flicker across some of their faces, narrowing. He couldn’t read her expression, but before he could mention it, she was next to him and resting against his arm, typical Rise smile firmly in place. “So Senpai, where’re we going?”

 

Souji shook off his analyses. Let the ladies have their secrets. “You know the area better than I do, Rise. And you said we should kill some time together, so...”

 

She gripped his arm harder. “Awww, you’re so sweet Senpai. Putting a day aside just to visit with me?”

 

“Well, that’s part of it. I was also hoping you knew of a few jewelry stores in the area.”

 

“Oh? Getting a present for someone?”

 

“Something like that, yeah.”

 

“It’s customary not to tell your girlfriend you’re getting her something until after the bill’s paid, Seta,” Yuhara called from behind, his eyes not leaving Rise.

 

Souji’s own eyes narrowed as he turned around. “Duly noted, Yuhara. And duly ignored.” He turned back to Rise. “Anyway, I don’t know much about jewelry, so, help me out?”

 

“I think we finally found something you can’t do, Senpai,” Rise replied teasingly with a sparkle in her eye. “And if I’m gonna help you, I expect something in return.”

 

“Like what? Carry your bags?”

 

Her eyes went wide, too wide to be innocent no matter how hard she tried. “Of course not, Senpai!”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“I’m serious!”

 

“Alright, then what did you have in mind?”

 

 “What’re you doing July 14th?”

 

“July 14th... You mean Tanabata?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Nothing so far. Why?” She didn’t answer, but looked at him expectantly. “Rise?”

 

She kept silent and cocked her head to one side, an eyebrow raising speculatively. Souji looked around and noticed they were starting to catch attention.

 

He sighed. “As a friend, would you accept my invitation to the Tanabata festival, Kujikawa Rise?”

 

She giggled in response and shot in for a quick hug before taking her customary place on his arm. “I’d be glad to, Senpai! I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

 

“It’s not-“

 

“Let’s go! We can start over here.”

 

“Rise...” He sighed. “Never mind. See you guys later,” Souji called over his shoulder, not bothering to look. It wasn’t until they’d gotten a few blocks away from the group that Souji let the tension drain from his shoulders.

 

Rise picked up on it in a heartbeat and looked up curiously. “Something wrong? You’re not regretting this, are you?”

 

“No, it’s not that. I’m just having a spat with some of the players on the basketball team.”

 

“Anything serious?”

 

“No, not really. Guy stuff, I guess.”

 

She pulled to a stop and stood on her toes, looking at his face closely with a face of intense concentration.

 

Souji reflexively pulled back from the scrutiny as much as she, still wrapped around his arm, would allow. “What?”

 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever admitted to doing guy stuff, Senpai.”

 

“Uh, okay.”

 

“You know what I mean, right?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Guys our age act like kids. They make up rumours about girls who shoot them down, they brag about conquests they’ve never had, and they act like everyone should know who they are. In a nutshell, most of them are jerks.”

 

“So, what does that have to do with me? I don’t think I do anything like that.”

 

She shook her head. “No, you don’t. And that’s the point. You’re nothing like them, and it’s terrific to be around you for that. So it’s strange to hear you say ‘guy stuff’ when you’re one of the most un-guy-like people I know.”

 

“Oh. Well it was probably bound to happen,” Souji shrugged. “I’m male, after all.”

 

Where had that come from?

 

Rise let go of his arm, turned, and looked him over fully, making a show of slowly running her eyes over him while her hands twitched. Souji tried, and failed, to fight down a blush. It was like she was resisting the urge to reach out and touch, or like he was a dessert course and she couldn’t decide where to start. When her eyes rose to his, they were smouldering, and she leaned up beside his face, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and making a point of slowly inhaling. “Oh I know you’re male, Senpai,” she whispered in a low murmur that scorched the side of his face and made him shiver. “Very, very male, and that’s something else I love about you.”

 

“R-Rise,” he choked out, feet cemented to the ground. He wanted to lean away from her, or lean into her, or ask her what she was doing, but couldn’t find the will to do anything besides stand there and watch.

 

Fortunately, she pulled back with an impish smile, her eyes going from dim bedroom to bright outdoors faster than he could register. “I know, Senpai.” _What?_ “You’re just too much fun though!” she giggled.

 

Souji tried to follow her mood swings, but stopped when his brain coughed and tripped over itself for the fourth time in under half a minute. “Right. So, where were we going?” he asked finally.

 

“Depends on you, Senpai. What were you looking for?”

 

He looked at her closely, trying to gauge her mood before he said anything. As usual, she stumped him, putting on her chipper air of effervescent happiness that was two notches short of air-headed ditziness. He knew she was smart, knew the flighty model image was as much a mask as his own aloof detachment, and for that reason she was probably the only member of the Investigation Team he couldn’t read with a measure of accuracy, rivalling even Naoto’s veneer of culture and bookworm intelligence. Well, her and Teddie. His spontaneity was hard to predict on a good day. So, he braced himself for a possible fallout and said “I want to get something for Yukiko.”

 

“Oh cool!” she replied immediately, throwing him off balance. No hurt pause, no hesitation, no shift in demeanour whatsoever. Had he been wrong, thinking Rise was attracted to him? Did she not mind that he was buying Yukiko a gift? Or was she a better actor than even he gave her credit for? “What did you have in mind? What’s the occasion? Is it her birthday?  Any idea what she’d go for?”

 

“That’s... her birthday’s in December, so it’s not for that. And I’m still not sure what I should get, which is why I wanted your help.”

 

“Sure thing, Senpai. Leave it to me. I know a great place we can hit up. C’mon.” She started pulling him along by the arm, not giving him much choice.

 

“Right,” he answered slowly, still waiting for the hammer to fall. Only it didn’t. She directed him across the street past some food vendors and tugged him up to a store front with the same happy smile and bubbly giggle as ever. When she looked at him curiously for the third time, not a trace of guile on her face and asking why he looked so serious, he finally shrugged and let it go. Whatever happened, happened.

 

“So where did you want to start?” she asked as they approached a block of stores fronting clothes, jewelry, accessories, and expensive food.

 

“I’m not sure. Just figured I’d look around until something jumped out at me.”

 

“Pfft. Typical male,” she chuckled. “Well we have to start somewhere, so c’mon.”

 

He followed her into a high-end clothing store, looking around and trying to imagine Yukiko in the various dresses, skirts, pullovers, and jackets when he realized that he didn’t know her size. Not to mention, as he told Rise, that nothing quite seemed like something she’d wear, either too flashy, cut too deep, too staid, too short, and so on. Rise just chuckled and pulled him deeper into the store before telling him to look around some more and take his time, to the giggles of various other female shoppers. Souji frowned thoughtfully; had he missed something?

 

Then he turned and saw _exactly_ what was so funny. How he hadn’t noticed, he’d never know, but Rise had led him right to the middle of the lingerie and unmentionables section of the store. Rows and piles and hangers full of frilly lace and fine leather, transparent, semi-transparent and opaque, v-necks, flatteners, push-ups, nightwear for sleeping, before, after and during, and all in every shade he could imagine, and many in shades he’d never seen before. He tried to wrap his head around just what Rise was trying to pull by leaving him there, but, as before, she’d left his thoughts in a tailspin. All he could do for a moment was stand and, to the appearance of anyone around him, stare.

 

“Your girlfriend must be very trusting to let you walk around here,” one customer mentioned, nodding to where Rise was posing with various nightgowns in front of a mirror. “Most have to keep their boys on a leash.”

 

“It’s not what it looks like,” he replied mechanically.

 

The woman chuckled. “Of course dear, of course. Still, it’s encouraging to see such devotion and maturity in the young. That simply doesn’t happen often enough.”

 

Rise, who’d caught the latter half of the conversation, came up and wrapped around Souji’s arm. “Yep. He’s the best.” Her tone, he realized with a tinge of horror, could have meant anything.

 

The woman laughed this time. “It seems so. Don’t let him go, dear.” Then she left to look at the racks on her own, apparently pleased with herself.

 

Rise turned to him, head cocked. “So, find anything you like Senpai?”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Hm? What do you mean?” Her eyes were a mix of impish glee and feigned innocence. Neither worked against the sober stare, bordering on a scowl, he sent her.

 

“Bringing me in here is like the beginning of a bad romance novel, Rise, or a cheesy anime. What are you trying to prove here?”

 

“Nothing Senpai. You said this was about you and Yukiko-senpai, and some girls like to be surprised with things like this,” she waved her hand out, indicating the various scraps of cloth and lace and silk.

 

“You don’t think this is going a little far? And wouldn’t that send the wrong message?”

 

She looked around, then nudged him into a corner, looking serious for a change. “How would this be going a little far?”

 

“You know Yukiko, Rise. She didn’t take your mention of her dimensions at the hospital last year very well, remember? Me sending her lingerie probably wouldn’t do me any favours. I don’t want to freak her out, and our relationship isn’t like that.”

 

“Yet.”

 

“What?”

 

“Your relationship’s not like that yet, but it probably will be someday, right? Isn’t that where you two are going?”

 

Souji stopped. He pictured Yukiko in her sleeping yukata, how she looked when he woke up next to her, and all the times she’d worn a kimono, embodying that classical beauty and sense of propriety that both intrigued him and set him at ease. That thought, however, also led to the memory of how her legs looked when so much of them were bare, not to mention how much he appreciated the sleek cut of her summer shirts and skirts with their gentle yet riveting sway. “But it isn’t there yet, Rise,” he finally replied. “And I’d rather not rattle her by giving the wrong impression. How would it look if I sent her something like that?” He pointed to a semi-transparent baby doll on a rack next to them.

 

“Pretty honest and mature, if you ask me.” She was serious. It was in her solid stance, not turned away, and the firm resolve in her eyes.

 

 He sighed. “Can you explain that one to me?”

 

“You’re asking me to explain a girl’s secrets to a guy. That’s breaking the rules. You know that, right?”

 

“Indulge my curiosity. Just this once.”

 

“Buying nightwear for a girl means you’re being unconventional, Senpai, but it also suggests...” she searched the ceiling for the word, “intimacy, and not just in bed. It says you’re more than just a friend, and if you know her dimensions and pick something in good taste, then you have information probably not a lot of other people do. So nightwear is something only you could get her.”

 

Souji frowned, turning her words over. He wouldn’t have made that connection, not even if he’d been paid to, but the way Rise said it made sense.

 

“It’s not just about the obvious connections,” she continued, “but about the deeper meaning behind it. Doesn’t that strike you as a bit romantic?”

 

“I can see where you’re coming from, but I think you’re assuming that Yukiko will make that connection.”

 

“True, but you’re assuming she won’t.”

 

He sighed again. Her logic was solid, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that buying Yukiko something to go under her clothes was going a little too far. “Fair enough, but I’d rather play it safe for now, alright?”

 

Rise stared at him for a moment, then her trademark smile bloomed across her face again. “Sure thing, Senpai. I’m nearly done, so just give me a minute?”

 

“No problem.”

 

While Rise looked at and touched everything she could, Souji was content to hang back and blend into the wallpaper, and while he garnered his share of stray looks from the female customers and employees, he made a point of ignoring them until Rise was done. When she finally came back, it was with a small bag containing two small packages. He shook his head when he saw her, wondering how she could spend that much time in a store just to come out with so little, but didn’t bother asking – regular shopping trips with her and Ai back in Inaba and Okina City had taught him that much about shopping with girls. They continued down the sidewalk, glancing into some stores, stopping and browsing at others, and every now and again Rise would come back out with another bag to add to her growing collection, growing large enough that Souji faced the inevitable and offered to carry half of them. But for all the clothes shops and jewelry stores and boutiques filled with perfumes and soaps and trinkets, nothing jumped out at him. They stopped for lunch, chatted about Rise’s new Kofu office and studio and shows, and then continued on.

 

They were passing another jewelry store when something in the window caught Souji’s eye. He pulled to a stop for a second look, and what he saw immediately piqued his interest.

 

A pair of earrings, polished until they shone, winked back at him in the afternoon sunlight, resting in a dark wooden box. They were shaped like fans, reminding him of Yukiko’s weapon of choice in the TV world, and highlighted by several strings of red and green beads. When he looked closer he saw columns of kanji characters scribed into each of the fan’s folds, catching the words ‘good luck’ at least once. “Interesting...”

 

“Hm? What’s up Senpai?” Rise asked, poking her head around him to see what he was looking at. “Oooh, those’re pretty.”

 

“Yeah.” He adjusted the bags he was carrying and slipped into the store. “Excuse me,” he called.

 

“One moment, dear.” An older woman, her face beginning to crinkle at the edges like foil but still bearing the marks of a smooth, classical beauty, came bustling around the counter to meet him. “Ah, good afternoon. How can I help you?”

 

“I was wondering about those earrings you have in the window. The ones shaped like fans.”

 

“Ah yes, those. What did you want to know?”

 

Souji looked around for Rise, and noticed her perusing the shelves on the other side of the store. “I’m looking for something for my girlfriend. It’s an anniversary gift.”

 

The woman’s eyes glowed, an unusual but welcoming shade of brown so light that they bordered on amber. “I think they would do very well for that.”

 

“Are the beads on them right now the only colour they come in?”

 

“That’s right. Will that be a problem?”

 

“She likes red, actually, so they’re just fine. What do they cost?” The woman told him, and he raised an eyebrow. They weren’t out of his price range, but were more expensive than he expected. “Could I see them?”

 

“Of course.” She bustled toward the window display and came back with the box in hand, and by then Rise was hovering near his arm, looking on curiously. Souji handed Rise’s shopping bags back to her for a moment, holding the box in his left hand while he fished around in his jacket breast pocket with his right, closing his fingers together when he felt the edge of the photo and pulling it out. It was a picture Chie had taken of them last September, a few weeks after they’d had their fateful little heart to heart on the shrine steps. It showed him and Yukiko sitting under the gazebo at the Samegawa, holding hands. He had a smile on his face while he watched her laugh. He couldn’t remember the joke he’d told her, or if it had been a joke and not just a slip of the tongue. “She’s beautiful,” the woman murmured as she looked at the photo. Souji nodded in agreement, twisting the earrings and photo side to side and trying to imagine Yukiko wearing them, seeing her hair and red barrette against the beads.

 

Rise shuffled beside him, looking at the earrings and photo. “Senpai?”

 

He didn’t look over, or let himself second guess the matter. He nodded and handed the earrings back to the woman and said “sold.”

 

\--

 

In the time spent around the teenagers who had become his closest friends and made up the Investigation Team, and particularly around the young woman who had become his first serious girlfriend, Souji had learned one thing. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He’d learned many things from them, but one thought in particular was echoing around his mind days after his and Rise’s shopping trip: that objects and actions were well and good, but words to express a sentiment or idea, no matter what it was, worked better than hoping the target of his expressions properly interpreted what he meant. Inaba had taught him, more and more, how useful words were when spoken, and how powerful they could be when used at the right time.

 

This was why, days after he’d bought his girlfriend an anniversary gift, he was still pacing circles throughout his kitchen and beating his head against the proverbial wall on what the note accompanying the gift should say. He’d tripped through numerous line of poetry and made countless comparisons to her and nature, from the stars and night sky to a clear day in winter, from the scent of tea to the feeling of silk, and every other cliché and bad line imaginable. He’d gone through a pad of paper in two days, writing up drafts and tearing them out to the point that he was filling as much of the paper as he could to cut his costs. It didn’t work. His nights as he tried to sleep, mornings on the way to school, afternoons during breaks or basketball practice, and evenings between bouts of homework were all shifted and reorganized to accommodate for snapping pencils, bleeding pens empty, and tearing off another sheet and throwing it to the nearest garbage can with the regularity of a metronome.

 

It was also why, after almost a week, he found himself in the library staring out a window and twirling his coin through his fingers with several open books of poetry spread out in front of him, lost in thought and trying to put his words together.

 

“Seta-kun.”

 

He looked up, noticing Takenaka looking at him from a nearby bookshelf.

 

“You looked a million miles away,” she observed. “What’s up?”

 

“Just thinking.”

 

”You’ve been doing that a lot since you got back from that shopping trip. Is everything alright?”

 

He wanted to sluff it off. That was his first and second response to almost everything at school nowadays. But he was also flat out of ideas and in need of advice, preferably of the feminine variety. He couldn’t talk to Rise about sending Yukiko letters – Tanabata was a few days away and he still didn’t know how she felt about his relationship. And his mother, not that he would have asked her anyway, had broken out of her strange phase of asking him how his day was or trying to talk about his schooling beyond his grades and returned to her usual 10-hour days at work. Just as well; her odd looks were getting more curious by the day.

 

So instead of rebuffing his schoolmate, Souji sighed and motioned for her to sit across from him. “I guess so. I could use some help.”

 

She quirked an eyebrow at him, her lips spreading into a smirk. He expected some comment about ‘that’s a first’, and he was sure she was saying it in her head. But the words didn’t come out and she took her seat after dropping her books on the table. “What are you working on?”

 

“A letter to my girlfriend.” He watched her closely, gauging her reaction.

 

And, per usual, she defied his expectations by folding her hands in front of her on the table’s surface. “You don’t mean Risette.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“What’s it for? A love letter?”

 

“Not really. It’s for an anniversary, of sorts.”

 

She cocked her head to the side. “Of sorts?”

 

“Yeah.” He met her stare with his own, but could see her thoughts running amok even from across the table. “Is that so strange?”

 

“Most guys don’t remember anniversaries, let alone try to celebrate them. I’m impressed.”

 

“I’m told I don’t fit the mould of most guys my age.”

 

She chuckled. “More like most guys in general, regardless of age. So, what’s the problem?”

 

“I can’t think of what to write,” he replied in exasperation, leaning back in his chair.

 

“What’ve you tried?”

 

“Everything. Romantic poetry, haikus, a recounting of the last time we met, first time we met, and even something in between. None of the books I’ve read talk about writing a letter are any help, and I’m... What’s so funny?”

 

She had the back of one hand held up to her face and the other on her stomach, clearly trying to keep from laughing out loud. When she caught his curious yet sincere glance, she doubled over again, barely keeping quiet. Even from across the table Souji heard her restrained laughs. He sighed and leaned back, waiting for her to finish. When she finally did, she waved in front her face, trying to keep control. “Sorry, I’m sorry, but that just sounds so much like you.” She let a few giggles as he cocked an eyebrow.

 

“Okay... I’m not sure I see the humour though.”

 

“You’re very logical, Seta-kun, so that you started with reading books on how to write a love letter is...” she trailed off in soft laughter again.

 

“I thought that would be rather appropriate, all things considered.”

 

“Oh it is,” she replied finally, seeming to have gotten her mirth under control. “And that’s the point. It’s cute.”

 

“Uh, thanks.”

 

“My point being that it’s just as well you’re still here. I assume she’s important to you?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Then you owe her something more than a copy-paste formula taken out of a book, you know? Especially if it’s for an important anniversary.”

 

“And that’s where I’m tripping up. What should I write?”

 

“Well, what’s it the anniversary of?”

 

“When we... first started going out, I guess you could say.” He caught her curious look. “It’s a little complicated.”

 

“Hm. Well, what’s she like?”

 

Souji stared across the table, putting a stop to his habitual coin flipping and tapping a finger on the table. Part of him, the part he was trying to get away from but refused to budge an inch, still wanted to brush her off and keep her separate from his life. Yet when he put together every past encounter with this girl, and Toyama, now that he thought about it, he couldn’t find a rational reason not to trust her. She’d been one of his first sort-of friends in Kofu, she’d been his introduction to the basketball team, and she’d always reserved judgement when the school was abuzz about him, whether it had been the rumours when he first moved in, or the debacle with Rise and the media. She hadn’t even changed much after he’d rebuffed the girls who’d sent him those letters, though he knew at least a few of them were her friends.

 

But that newer part of himself, born in Inaba and still clumsily wobbling along on shaky legs and baby steps, told him he had to take chances sometimes. It was why he had the friends he did, and why he had a girlfriend to buy presents for and try to write letters to. Takenaka had stuck with him when others had given up on getting around his calm aloofness. Besides, he thought to himself, with everyone thinking he was Risette’s boy toy, it wasn’t like news of Yukiko would shock anyone.

 

He finally reached into his binder and pulled an inner sleeve open, extracting a few photos and sliding them across the table. Takenaka’s expression softened when she looked at them, handling the edges carefully.

 

“She’s beautiful,” she said finally. “And I see why you’re working so hard now.”

 

“So... any suggestions?”

 

“Thanks for showing me those.” She handed the photos back and Souji slid them into their place. “If you were like Yuhara, I’d give you the worst advice I could.” She held up a hand when Souji bristled at any comparison between them. “But you aren’t, and those photos say a lot. So my advice? Stop writing to impress her. Don’t try to be eloquent or flowery, and don’t copy something out of the books.”

 

Souji chose his words carefully, trying not to offend the voice of advice. “That’s what I was thinking, but that doesn’t really help me write something she’ll like.”

 

“Be honest. Bring up some details of why you have an anniversary in the first place.”

 

“That might be a bit... Hm. You think so?”

 

She nodded toward his binder. “I don’t think the girl in those photos needs anything groundbreaking. She looks happy enough as it is, and that’s before she’s getting whatever you’re sending her.”

 

“Good point. But you think it’s that simple?”

 

“Why does it need to be complicated?”

 

She had a point, he admitted.

 

“Something simple’s going to reflect you a lot better than those do,” she pointed at the books spread between them.

 

“Hm. You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”

 

“Seems like we have that in common,” she pointed out.

 

“A valid point.”

 

“So does that help?”

 

“It gives me a place to start. And saves me from taking more books home.”

 

She chuckled and began gathering her own books.

 

“Hey.” He struggled with the words, but felt that they were fitting nonetheless. “Thanks, Megumi-san.”

 

She looked a bit surprised at the shift in names, then smiled a genuine smile with less cunning humour than he was used to seeing. “You’re welcome, Souji-kun. See you tomorrow?”

 

He nodded.

 

“Good luck.”

 

“Thanks again.”

 

As she left the library, Souji took a moment to stare out the window again, lost in thought about Yukiko and Kofu and his own part to play in what was going on around him. _Baby steps._

 

He brought out a new pen and started writing. And this time, far fewer sheets of paper were sent flying to the trash bin.

 

\--

 

The days leading up to Tanabata passed Souji in a blur. Between his finally writing out a letter he was happy with and the other plans that had to be made in getting the gift to Inaba for August 6th, his world consisted of his house, classroom, phone, and books. He’d even been cutting basketball practice in favour of juggling his schedule, and that had been before the announcement of impending exams. Together his parents looked confused by his change in routine for no less than 26 minutes over one week before diving into their own work again.

 

But as he’d donned his jacket and freshly-ironed slacks, polished shoes and new shirt and standard full-finger gloves, he felt like the rush to make all the arrangements was worth it. He couldn’t be there to see Yukiko’s face when the gift got there, but that didn’t change the feeling that he’d done something right from making a home in his chest since the last call had been made. He waved through the usual Q&A session with his parents as he headed out the door and took the time to enjoy the walk to Rise’s apartment.

 

When he arrived, he nodded politely to the doormen and made his way to her apartment. He called through the rich mahogany a moment before it was unlocked and cracked open. “C’mon in!” she told him before scampering back to her room as he tentatively entered and looked around. He was a little surprised by the opulent furniture and bookcases, but wasn’t surprised at all by the strings of fan mail and the homey, lived-in feel the apartment had. It was a strong enough contrast to his own place that it was hard to miss, and he gravitated toward the kitchen, running his hands over the counter surface. He was still there when Rise popped out of what he assumed was a bed room or dressing room, tying her hair into her trademark tails. A woman he’d never met before followed Rise, tugging the idol’s _obi_ into place and nodding quietly to Souji. He reflexively returned the nod, but wondered who she was.

 

“Thanks for the help, Hiyori-san,” Rise said, a little muffled by her raised arms and finishing touches. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

 

“It’s no trouble, Rise-chan,” the woman replied, standing back to examine her work and finding it satisfactory. “Be sure to enjoy yourself. Seta Souji-san, wasn’t it?” she inquired as she turned to him.

 

He nodded. “That’s right.”

 

“Please take care of Rise-chan tonight.”

 

Rise sighed. “Hiyori-san, I don’t need a chaperone.”

 

“Of course not. We’re just watching out for you.”

 

“Rise can usually take care of herself,” Souji replied steadily. “But if the situation ever comes up where she needs help, I’ll be there to offer it.”

 

The woman bowed. “That’s all I ask. And thank you for escorting her this evening.”

 

Rise shook her head, starting to look a little put out. “I’m not a child anymore. You can tell Inoue that too.”

 

“She’s a friend,” was all Souji said, not willing to risk Rise’s ire by appearing to take sides. The woman nodded once and slipped out of the apartment, either unaware of Rise’s near-glare or ignoring it.

 

The idol huffed when the door closed. “So I can parade around in front of cameras and complete strangers in a two-piece swimsuit for hours without anyone speaking up, but I can’t go to a festival in the middle of the city with a friend?”

 

“They’re being cautious,” he replied.

 

“Did that look like caution to you?”

 

He gave her a bland smile. “They care, Rise, and it shows. It might be stifling sometimes, but it can be a lot worse.”

 

She glared at him almost petulantly. “You’re supposed to take my side.”

 

“It’s better to have the help and concern and not need it. Was she here to help you with your clothes?”

 

“Never worn a kimono, have you Senpai?” He shook his head. “Some of it you can get on alone, but the _obi_? Not a chance, or at least not if you want to get it right.”

 

“I see. Well, you look good in it.”

 

Rise perked up immediately. “Oooh, you think so?” She started twisting and turning, showing off for his benefit. Unlike the kimono she’d worn in Inaba, this one was a closer orange to her usual tank tops and summer dresses, and was decorated with a small flock of birds in flight up her sleeves and across her and back. The _obi_ in question was a red that set off her hair and makeup nicely. She blushed lightly and grabbed him in a quick hug when he told her as much, and then started gathering her things to prepare for their night out. When she had her keys and purse in hand and locked the door behind them, he offered his arm as they made their way out the building an onto the street. She took it almost by reflex, and they headed for the festival grounds. And they weren’t even under the first set of lanterns when he heard someone call out ‘Look! It’s Risette!”

 

From that point on their progress through the festival was slow since every teenager and young adult, and even a lot of the adults, had to stop and see Risette in the flesh. Photos, autographs, words of inspiration, or just a striking smile, it was all lapped up by the crowds. When he asked her if they were going to need another escape route, she gave him a look that asked if he was kidding. “Run? In this? Not a chance, Senpai. Besides, this isn’t so bad. Just enjoy the attention for now.” He shot her a puzzled look – why would he be enjoying the attention when she was at the centre of it? Then she pointed to a small group of girls, all around his age, who were staring at the pair with clear interest in their eyes, and they weren’t looking at Rise. He sighed and edged as close to her as propriety would allow, but didn’t release the tension in his shoulders until the crowds died down and began to move around them. By then Rise had also attached herself to his arm as per usual, and familiarity was a welcome distraction.

 

The festival was, as they always were, a mishmash of game and food vendors, plays and acts by local and professional performers, traditional songs and stories passed on in the region, and, Souji’s personal favourite, chains of coloured lanterns and a wide variety of charms hanging on wires and dancing in the breeze. The people around him and Rise were an equal smattering of the modern and the traditional. Some men and women were in their normal street clothes, others in suits, too busy to change from work, and others yet, like Rise, in yukata and kimonos. The sight was nostalgic. No matter where he’d lived or what his parents were doing, Japanese festivals were concrete events that he could always partake in, a kind of permanence that he needed during a youth of transience. And so, like his informal cooking lessons, he’d taken to attending every festival he could, either with a caretaker when he wasn’t old enough to go alone, or by himself or the odd friend when he was.

 

Rise nudged him out of his reminiscence and pulled him toward a vendor where they were selling animal masks, then towards a series of games, and then to the food stalls, and back to the games. And with every event, he felt more of that old fascination return. The feeling of history in the stories of Tentei and Orihime, the tales of the Tokyo and Kofu region that he’d never heard before, and the recognition of, and indulgence in, his country’s history was like putting on an old jacket, worn to his size and never wearing out no matter how much he aged.  It was a preoccupation, his father said, that was pointless because of its brevity. Success and meaning were determined by longevity and resilience to change, his father continued, so a night of fun and games wouldn’t change what was waiting for him the next day. Souji argued that a celebration that had lasted since the Edo period was exactly that, a long-living tradition, but his father had stopped listening by then. That was the last time he tried to bring them along to anything.

 

He let some of the tension from the crowd blitz fade away and got more into the games. He excelled at the ring-toss and dart-throwing games while she had a surprising knack for target shooting. They shared memories of past festivals and traded embarrassing experiences  of their own, laughing and acting more like normal teenagers with every step.

 

By the time they headed through the park and down to the lake for the fireworks, the sun had gone down completely and the crowds were either dispersing from an evening of festivities and parades and stories, or finding their own places along the hillside and forested park and waterfront. Rise insisted on the lakeside. “Everyone’s been camping out on the hills for their own spots,” she told him. “And the fireworks look so cool on the water.” They had nudged past and slipped through the crowd and just gotten a good spot when noise of the crowd died down in anticipation.

 

Souji leaned against the rails surrounding the lake and looked up into the sky. Between the trees and the lack of clouds, the city lights felt far away, adding to the enclosed serenity of the area. The light chatter of the people around him fell into the background as he stared, smiling when the first of the night’s fireworks whistled into the air. “Ooo, look Senpai!” Rise gasped at his side. He nodded. More joined them, whether they were blue streamers or explosions of red and green and gold. Some burst into a series of crackles while others whistled in streaks like shooting stars. Around him, others were drawn to the sight, similarly entranced. When he glanced over at his friend, he let a smile cross his face at her girlish glee at each detonation. No matter where he was or what was going on, he knew he was lucky to have her. Her and his other friends, no matter the distance.

 

Then his eyes were drawn to the water’s surface, calm except for a few spectators paddling around in boats. The colours above looked almost surreal on the lake’s reflection when they cut through the gloom, smooth and unbroken and mixing together. The sight pulled at a memory, and suddenly he wasn’t in Kofu at a park during Tanabata. He wasn’t hundreds of miles from his friends and family. Instead he was back in Inaba, at the festival at the shrine, surrounded by the Investigation Team and his uncle and cousin. He was on a hill watching the others enjoy the fireworks themselves. Rise and Nanako clapping and cheering under Dojima’s watchful eye. Kanji picking his third meal of the night clean while Teddie tried something new from the food stands. Chie and Yosuke in discussion near a bench along the stone path.

 

And there she was. Next to him and equal parts reserve and allure in purple and silver, lustrous hair loose in the night air and stirring in the breeze. The colours of the fireworks played across her face, blues and reds chasing yellows while the whites at once softened her cheeks and almost made them glow. She turned her eyes to him, more open than he’d ever seen them since their talk at the shrine two weeks before where he’d said those fateful words. She had his right hand, unhindered by gloves or scars, in both of hers, soft as clouds and smooth as marble. Neither said anything as the night closed around them. Instead his left hand came up to her cheek while one of hers broke their hold and rested on his neck, and it was there that they shared their first kiss. He couldn’t remember who started it, or when it ended, but he’d never forget her cool touch on his skin and the little sigh she’d made on contact.

 

When he came back to himself, he felt his cheeks tingling from the smile on his face. He looked back up into the sky and felt her touch across the miles, her breath on his face, and her laugh in his ears like it had never left. He closed his hands on the rail and, for just that night, let her take his worries away.

_Wish you were here, Yukiko._


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 

The sound of falling rain was everywhere, sounding more like gunshots than water droplets. But that didn’t make sense – the sky was clear with sunshine and rainbows dancing around him, near and far. There was no place for rain here. This was Heaven. But that didn’t stop it from falling around him and soaking him from brows to boots.

 

_“Mom? Where are you?”_

_Nanako? I can’t see you, where-_

_“It’s alright though. I have Dad with me, and Big Bro.”_

Then he saw her, standing in an archway and speaking to a circling blue butterfly, dressed in her usual white and pink. He shivered and tried to get to her, but he couldn’t reach her. Mud sucked at his boots while rain water weighed down his clothes and armour. Even his sword was heavier than a lead weight.

 

He had to get to her. Had to save her. He pushed harder, finding some give in the mud and landing on a stair, slogging forward while his heart raced with exertion, and something more. Terror. Dread. He knew something was coming. Something dangerous. He knew the feeling too well to ignore it, and started scrambling toward her. “Nanako! Come over here!”

 

_“I’ll bring Big Bro with me, Mom. We’ll come see you, so you won’t be lonely.”_

 

“I’m right here, Nanako!”

 

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t hear him, and no matter how hard he struggled, she never got any closer. He abandoned his sword and shoved his water-logged bangs from his eyes, struggled forward, drew on his Personas, _anything_ to get to her.

 

The rain intensified.  Raindrops melded together like static on a TV. Continuous, relentless, and growing louder. Then it didn’t sound like rain or a static signal, but a truck engine so loud that he couldn’t hear Nanako anymore. His legs froze, held fast as the mud turned into concrete. He struggled and strained, but couldn’t move as the truck roared toward him. He looked around frantically, but couldn’t find it. He saw the headlights and shielded his eyes, but the body of the truck only came into sight as it passed him, close enough to touch. It was Namatame’s delivery truck.

 

Souji stared in horror as the vehicle sped toward the archway and his cousin. Words froze like a knot in his chest. He couldn’t call her, or breathe, or shout.

 

Closer, closer the truck roared. Accelerating.

 

The knot gave out, and Souji inhaled just as screaming brakes filled his ears and the sounds of the truck crashing – glass breaking, metal grinding, fibreglass snapping– slammed into him, stopping him still.

 

He swore he could see blood trickling between the tires.

 

\--

 

Souji woke up in a flash, sweat and tears blinding him, a scream of loss on his lips. It was only the feeling of his blanket over him and the familiar darkness that choked him off. No rainbows, no clouds or sunshine. No golden arches or blue butterflies. But the rain, the rain was still there.

 

He heard several shouts from outside. Sharp tones and sharper words echoed up to his window, and he staggered off his futon, then yanked down his blinds to look out into the rain.

 

A collision. A car pulling out from a parking space and a delivery van rushing down slick roads. A man in a business suit was waving angrily at another man in a green uniform.

 

A dream. Or rather, a nightmare.

 

Souji let out several shuddering breaths before he stumbled back into his desk chair. The world was spinning and Nanako’s voice still filled his ears. He felt sick. His hands were clammy as they braced his head over his desk. He felt the sweat and tears burn tracks down his face as he struggled for control, trying to drive out the memories and the rain. His stomach eventually calmed and the world righted itself, but he gave up trying to ignore the rain and looked at the clock by his futon. 4:19 am. He gave a disgusted groan and leaned back in his chair. No way he was getting any more sleep tonight.

 

His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he glanced across his desk to the framed pictures of his time in Inaba. They never failed to being a smile to his face. When he reached for one of Yukiko, Chie and Yosuke, however, the photo blurred and his eyes focused on his outstretched left hand, and the scars reflected in the glass. The appendage froze, and he couldn’t help looking at the grisly reflection staring back at him, at the patched-over skin on the back of his hand. At the damage it represented.

 

With a heavy sigh he turned away from the pictures, spinning his chair so his back was to the pictures – he didn’t need to associate his family and friends in Inaba with nightmares and rain anymore than they already were. Instead he steered his thoughts inward. It had been almost four months since he’d moved to Kofu, and it felt like as good a time as any to reflect and take stock of what he’d accomplished.

 

The problem was, what he saw didn’t improve his mood. He’d slipped right back into the same non-committal two step with his parents that they’d been dancing for years. He brushed past his mother without a second thought and avoided his father whenever he could, and yet it still bothered him despite his efforts to distance himself from them. There was still a part of him, he realized with a mixture of exasperation and jaded resignation, that he’d never outgrown. A child in a long-neglected part of his mind with his arms open still waiting to be picked up by his parents, held in stasis for more years than he wanted to admit. He knew that part of himself was there before Inaba, and even tried to dismiss it all the more when he reached Kofu. He wanted nothing to do with his parents, and he could say that without reservation or regret. He wanted to let go, to move on from the casket his family life had been inhabiting for years. Unfortunately, it was like trying to ignore a child on a candy buzz. The more he tried to dismiss it, the harder it was to get past.

 

He shook his head sharply, which only brought his attention to a dull headache growing in the back of his skull. Enough about his parents. He tried thinking about school, and felt his mood improve. Only slightly.

 

Had he gotten past his usual mistrust of people his own age? He’d been able to talk to Megumi-san more openly now that he’d explained his situation with Yukiko to her. And Yoshiro-kun was no less a friend than he’d been from the first day they’d met. But that reflected on himself more than anything, and he couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t respect or intellect or background that separated him from his peers, but fear. Maybe fear of rejection, or perhaps fear of losing something dear in the end. He’d never kept in touch with his friends from his previous schools, and indeed could barely remember any of their names now. He’d grown so accustomed to seeing the apartment filled with moving boxes instead of furniture that letting go became a reflex. Easier to move on when you never got attached to something in the first place.

 

Only now he couldn’t tell himself that. He went along with his friends in Inaba out of necessity and courtesy at first, and then found himself utterly unable to let go, holding on tighter than a nail to a finger. They’d gotten under his skin, broken him open and pulled him along for the ride, and he couldn’t find a sliver of resentment in his heart for them waking him up. And that was the problem. Had he been a coward before? Had he just let go and given up on what might have been good friendships because he was too afraid to invest himself? And was he doing it now, itching to graduate and get back to Inaba and leave Kofu behind as swiftly as he’d arrived?

 

And never mind the friends he might have made, what about Yukiko? How was it fair to her that the most presence he had in her life now was that of a voice on the phone? They talked regularly, often about nothing at all, but was that enough? What could he offer her, being halfway across Japan from her? And they hadn’t even discussed university yet. Another hurdle to overcome, and would that just be more of the same? Living in separate places, leading separate lives with memories to keep them together? Stolen weekends once a month and a phone bill that could feed a large family?

 

He shook his head again, this time aggravating his headache. He hated the rain. It never failed to turn his thoughts grim, to make his fixate on his failures like they were on a billboard beside the Chuo Expressway. That his eyes felt like sandpaper wasn’t helping. He couldn’t seem to keep them open though. Maybe if he closed his eyes for just a bit, he could get some rest...

 

_“Big Bro!”_

 

His entire body jerked this time, snapped awake by a heart rate that was in no way healthy. Nope. No more sleep. He yawned one last time, near to the point of dislocating his jaw, and pushed himself up to get dressed. Coffee sounded good. Three sugars, extra strong, and a session with the apartment’s exercise room seemed in order.

 

He’d fought through Shadows and faced the subconscious feelings of his closest friends in the forms of murderous monsters. This was just bad dreams and worse weather. He could handle this.

 

\--

 

Muscles so sore he couldn’t hold himself up, let alone a sword, or headaches so bad he couldn’t walk straight, or even propped up against a wall, bleeding from claw wounds. Prolonged exhaustion and stressed-induced sleep deprivation. These were things he was used to handling. Same with spending hours tactfully brushing off tastefully decorated daughters of his family’s business partners while being bored to tears through long-winded speeches and not nearly enough food.

 

What he was swiftly learning he couldn’t handle as easily was his classmates, namely Yuhara and his flunkies on the basketball team. Much as Souji had sworn off playing around the braggart, Yoshiro had been adamant that his presence was necessary at practice that day. Souji’s flat out denials fell on deaf ears as Yoshiro offered money, favours, bribes, and even a place on the team for his critique of the team as a whole and Yoshiro’s own playing. Souji still said no, that time and the following four times until the team captain had made an utter spectacle of asking him, literally on hands and knees in front of the school store between classes. The busiest place on campus, during the busiest time of the day, and Souji was at the centre of attention while Yoshiro was prostrating himself in front of him, loudly and clearly wording his requests. The sheer unexpectedness of it, not to mention how it placed Seta Souji, transfer student, man of mystery, resident heartbreaker, and boy toy to Risette herself in the spotlight once again stopped him from answering. Then Yoshiro repeated himself, and Souji’s temper snapped. He took two steps forward and grabbed the team captain by the arm and began to haul him into the crowd with a grimace as black as asphalt. Yoshiro resisted at first, trying to wring a concession out of Souji first. He’d underestimated how strong Souji was under his loose clothes, however.

 

“Will you do it then?”

 

“Let’s just get out of here!”

 

Anything else Yoshiro had to say was lost as he had to scramble to keep his feet while Souji pushed through the swiftly-parting crowd to a mostly deserted alcove. When the class bell rang the other students began to move on, but it was Souji’s glare that kept attention off of them. It didn’t, however, stop the whispers and pointing that had wasted no time in starting. Souji turned to Yoshiro, already feeling a new headache adding to his old one.

 

“So?” Yoshiro asked, not a hint of apology on his face.

 

“You ever do that again,” Souji grated, “and you could offer me your firstborn child and I’d still tell you to go to Hell.”

 

“Okay, fair enough.”

 

“No, I’m serious. That was completely unnecessary and probably the most pathetic thing I’ve seen in months. And I’ve seen you and the others play for keeps.”

 

“So will you do it?”

 

Souji glared once more to make sure he had Yoshiro’s attention. “Fine. But we’ll discuss the price later. And it’s not going to be cheap.”

 

Yoshiro’s smile could have powered a corporate block with its sheer wattage. Unfortunately, it was so bright that it only amplified the pounding between Souji’s ears and behind his eyes.

 

So he fulfilled his obligations and gave the advice Yoshiro was so desperate for, and to their credit the team only argued a little with him. They’d split up afterwards, some shooting hoops while the others, Souji included, were practicing passes. There was a lull in the conversation that spawned a heavy tension in the air, something Souji picked up on only at the last second.

 

“So’ve you guys seen Risette’s new poster series?” Yuhara inquired in all his smug glory, tossing Souji a superior look.

 

Anything Souji was about to say was cut off by several others, practically on cue, asking about them. And Yuhara spared no expense in regaling them where he’d been when he found said poster collection, or how expensive it was, or going into lurid detail about what Rise was doing in them and what parts of her the poses emphasized most. Souji spared his teeth a heavy grating and instead focused on keeping the ball moving, mixing his throws to his partners while he tried to drone them out.

 

“What’s up Seta? Nothing to say?” Yuhara asked finally, looking over at the transfer student archly.

 

“Not really.”

 

The others went silent for a moment, not expecting that answer. “No? Not at all? Doesn’t bug you, what guys think about Risette?”

 

Souji glanced over at them coldly. “She’s not my girlfriend, contrary to what the rumour mill thinks. She’s a model, and I’m sure she’s aware of what you do every time she hits TV or the airwaves.”

 

“Pffft. Right, Pretty Boy. And you don’t?”

 

“She’s not my type. So no, I don’t lick the screen every time her commercials come on. I happen to respect her a lot more than that.”

 

“Right. And you keep that respect at the front of your mind and everything, I bet?”

 

Souji caught the ball and held it close, finally turning a flat look to his class mate. “So hard to believe?”

 

“No one’s like that, Seta. Not us, not adults, no one cares that much about someone’s precious feelings when sex is involved.”

 

Souji snorted, spinning the ball up on one finger. “That says a lot more about you than it does about me, Yuhara. If you can’t believe in people even to that extent, then I’d call you pathetic before I’d call Rise shallow.”

 

Yuhara smiled, now just as cold as Souji, and his voice took on a vile innuendo. “You and your morals, Pretty Boy. Tell me, is she natural?”

 

“She’s got plenty of talent, sure.”

 

Yuhara came closer and dropped his voice. “You spend all that time with her, so I’m sure you’ve hit it, right? Her hair really that colour?”

 

The temperature plummeted around them. Discussions died out as Souji stepped closer to Yuhara, eyes never wavering. “You’d better take that back right now,” he growled. “No matter how twisted your fantasies are of her, she deserves a lot more respect than that. Even from you.”

 

“Reality check, Pretty Boy,” Yuhara taunted. “She’s a blow-up doll.”

 

He’d stressed the middle word enough that Souji tossed to ball to the side and stalked up to the player, fists clenched. What did they know? How could they ever know what Rise had gone through, facing herself in the TV and coming to terms with everything afterwards? How could they understand what he and the others fought against to save her? Hearing Yuhara was rapidly degrading Souji’s reason as he closed the little remaining distance between them, every step hammering through the court. One of the team members, seeing the writing on the wall, tried to stop one or the other. Souji reacted when he felt an arm on his shoulder, rolling his arm around the restraining limb, sharply snapping him off-balance, and shoving hard so he staggered back. Souji’s other hand came up and curled around Yuhara’s shoulder, bringing his smug face down to within whispering distance. “Last time offered,” Souji hissed. “Take that back _right now_.”

 

“Hey! Yuhara!” Yoshiro snapped, pushing past the others from the sidelines. “Yuhara! Souji! Enough!”

 

The two were frozen in place for a long moment before Yuhara finally broke off, pulling back, brushing Souji’s hand off of him, and looking to the captain. “Yes?”

 

“Fifteen laps around the court.”

 

“What?” Even the other team members looked surprised.

 

“You heard me. I told you to stay away from Seta, didn’t I?”

 

“We were just-“

 

“Didn’t I?”

 

Souji backed off a few steps, watching for the first time as Yoshiro seemed genuinely close to losing his usual composure.

 

Yuhara shrugged. “So what? We were just talking.”

 

“About Risette again?”

 

No reply.

 

“Well?”

 

Souji glanced around. “If no one else will say it, I will. He made some crude insinuations about her.”

 

Yoshiro snorted. “Figures. I warned you, Yuhara. Fifteen rounds. Get moving.”

 

“Captain,” Yuhara objected after sending Souji a caustic look, “it was nothing. Just what we always do at practice.”

 

“Are you deaf? I don’t care what you used to do or say. This fascination with Risette of yours is becoming disrespectful, especially around a friend of hers, and when you’re wearing that jersey, you’re representing all of us. Save the gloating and girls for off-campus. Now get moving.”

 

“Really, it’s-“

 

“Shall I make it forty?” The threat hung in the air, and throughout it all, Souji was as cold and stoic as ever. He had to give Toyama Yoshiro credit though; when he snapped, he didn’t hold back. “You’re not much use to me if you can’t follow directions,” Yoshiro continued. “And I have other forwards I can suggest we use this week.”

 

Yuhara glared back. “You wouldn’t take the chance, captain. Not with the national scouts being here. You want to win as much as we do.”

 

“And the scouts will be watching for effort on the court,” Yoshiro replied smoothly, not budging an inch. “But if you’d rather sit those ones out...”

 

Yuhara sent one more glare to Souji before he broke from the team lines and began his laps. Yoshiro turned to the others. “Well?” Soon enough the balls were being passed back and forth, and Souji and Yoshiro were off to the side. The team captain glanced over at the transfer student, an unusually sober look on his face. “Sorry about that.”

 

“Don’t.” Souji replied shortly, massaging his temples. “That apology’s not yours to give.”

 

“I know. You looked like you were about to throw down there.”

 

Souji stayed silent.

 

“Bet it wouldn’t have been pretty, either,” Yoshiro continued. “Still, if you are going to grind him into paste, could you wait until nationals are over?”

 

“No love lost then?”

 

Yoshiro snorted, a brittle glint of anger in his eyes. “I can guess what he said to piss you off. He talked a lot about Megumi when we started going out, and none of it was good. Yuhara’s had a bad childhood, rough family, but that doesn’t excuse what he said. I won’t hold it against you if you two get into a scrap. Just don’t break him too much, as a favour to me?”

 

Souji gave a cross between a chuckle and a grunt. “More favours, huh? I’m keeping a running tab now, you know.”

 

Yoshiro chuckled. “Good. And I appreciate the help today. I still owe you, and I’m good for it.”

 

“Alright, Yoshiro-kun. I’ll play nice. Or I’ll try to exercise restraint, anyway.”

 

“I’d appreciate it. C’mon, yakitori sticks on me?”

 

Souji shook his head. “Thanks, but I need some painkillers before my head explodes. Rain cheque?”

 

“Sounds good. And take it easy, yeah?”

 

“I’ll try.” Souji grabbed his bags and left the gym, revelling in the relative silence of the hallways. Having Yoshiro on his side brought an unexpected lightness to his shoulders. Nothing had changed, really, but having confirmation was something Souji never took for granted. Maybe things would calm down enough for him to rest now. Just for a little bit.

 

\--

 

Things did calm down. For the rest of that day. Souji knew it wasn’t going to last.

 

“No, Inoue-san.”

 

“I could use the favour here, Seta-kun. Rise’s still angry at me for Hiyori-san being as careful as she was during the Tanabata festival.”

 

“Last time I got involved with Rise in public, I had to dodge the media for almost a month. My classmates still won’t shut up about it and my parents gave me hell for being every gossip rag’s new front-page star.” It was an exaggeration, but the rain hadn’t stopped. Nor had his sleep deprivation. And his headache was back, this time with friends. “And now you want me to go to a party with her, where there will almost certainly be cameras and paparazzi. I don’t think they’ve forgotten about me that easily.”

 

“That’s just it though. You’ve been on their front pages already. They’re going to be less interested about old news than if you were seen with Rise for the first time.”

 

“That’s some pretty strange logic,” Souji pointed out. “If I were small news, I wouldn’t have lasted on the front pages for as long as I did. And you’re overlooking the fact that I stand out no matter where I go, and, second, that nothing, absolutely nothing, ever goes according to plan when I’m involved.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better, some of those magazines kept you on the front page because of how well you sold. Some agents were even asking me and Rise about you. And your little marriage trick back in Inaba worked rather spectacularly,” Inoue pointed out.

 

“That was Inaba. Nobody knows where Inaba is. I have an address here, though, and people know where to find me.”

 

The agent sighed on the line. “What will it take to get you on board with this? Name your price.”

 

“You didn’t hear me, Inoue-san. My answer’s ‘no.’ Rise can handle herself. And she has you for dealing with the competition and threatening lawsuits.”

 

“I can’t be there tonight, Seta-kun. I’m booked solid, and so are the others.”

 

“Then why the concern? Why do you want me there so badly?”

 

The agent sighed across the line. “I know I’m being overprotective, but I just have a bad feeling about tonight. Rise’s gotten some stiff competition since her comeback. I’m sure you’ve heard about it.”

 

“Girls like Kanamin. I’d heard there’d been some heated words between them. But they were on the rise when Rise was on sabbatical. What’s the problem?”

 

“Rise stole the spotlight when she got back to Tokyo, a lot more than we expected. Maybe it was the hype surrounding Inaba and the murders, maybe it’s been your antics and the marriage thing, or maybe Rise’s just that much more into her work and people are picking up on that. The point is, there’s some bad blood between her and some of the people running the show tonight, and I can’t be there.”

 

“So tell Rise and cancel her appearance. Better to err on the side of caution, right?”

 

“And I would if I could. But the other agents attending the photo shoot? The photographer? We’ve been planning to meet them for months, and I don’t want to lose this chance.”

 

“So make a tough call, Inoue-san.”

 

“I am. I’m willing to give you a blank cheque, figuratively or literally, whatever you want, for you being there to watch out for her. Just for tonight.”

 

“You’re really not taking ‘no’ for an answer, are you? I don’t even know what to expect, and you’re sending me in to protect her like I’m a bouncer or something.”

 

“I get the feeling you can more than handle yourself if anything goes wrong, Seta-kun.” Souji didn’t answer, occupied with massaging his temples again. This was exactly what he didn’t need. “I know you can handle yourself, in fact.”

 

“You make it sound like you expect me to need to fight off a group of thugs out for her blood, you know.”

 

“We’re a little more subtle than that in entertainment. For the most part.”

 

Souji grunted sourly. “How reassuring.”

 

“Please, Seta-kun? I’m hoping it will be for nothing, and then you’ll have just wasted a few hours of your evening. And I’ll be in your debt.”

 

“And if I hang up now, you’ll have my number on redial for the rest of the day, won’t you?”

 

“I’d hate to have to do that.”

 

That Inoue hadn’t said ‘no’ was not lost on Souji. The silver-haired teen finally sighed. “You make very, very sure I’m kept out of the spotlight this time. No pictures, no magazine covers, no mention of my name at this thing whatsoever.”

 

“You got it. We’ll handle it this time.”

 

“I mean it, Inoue-san,” Souji replied calmly, far too calm to be normal. “I don’t care if it bankrupts you or involves blackmailing people in the government. I don’t want any fame after tonight.

 

“I’ll make sure the arrangements are made. You have my word,” Inoue promised. “Thank you, Seta-kun. I’ll find a way to repay you.”

 

Souji sighed. “Yeah, well, this seems to be my week for favours. Send me the address and time and I’ll be there.”

 

And that was how he’d ended up in a spacious living room sipping drinks and keeping an eye on Rise while she flitted from photographer to agent to privileged fan like an iridescent butterfly. She’d caught him in a hug when he first arrived, then scampered to the back for a short photo shoot with enough energy to make him tired just watching her. She’d had a broad enough change of outfits that he wasn’t sure how she’d fit it all into her bag, and was back before he had time to worry. So far he was wondering why Inoue was worried in the first place.

 

After dosing up with enough painkillers to dull the roar in his head, he’d tossed on his trademark black jacket, gloves, and plain white shirt before setting out for the evening. His father was working late and his mother was engrossed in her paperwork in the office, so he’d slipped out with nary a word. The only addition to his ensemble was the black ball cap he’d gotten from Yoshiro at some point to conceal his hair. Inoue could make all the promises he wanted, but Souji wasn’t taking chances.

 

Still, the party was nothing outside what he expected from other high school students, being largely populated by idols his own age and their fans, with the odd pocket of suited adults talking business. The drinks were abundant, to the point that Souji was sure someone was spiking the supply, the music was loud enough to pull his headache back from its drug-induced absence, and the party had an energy to it that made him glad to attend, and even more glad to observe from the sidelines. More than once he’d had a sparkle-eyed girl tug at his arm and gesture toward the dance floor, and more than once he’d politely turned the offer down. Others came over with the offer of refills and he consistently pointed to the drink he’d been nursing and replied “Thanks. I have one.”

 

He kept his hair covered and his eyes bouncing around the room, watching Rise enjoy herself. But, and perhaps to Inoue’s credit, while there had been some inquiries tossed his way, no one asked to see him in front of the camera. Or even asked if he’d been seen with Rise lately, and that played no small part in improving his mood. There was no shortage of eye candy, he had to admit. Plenty of bare leg and thigh and arm, naked midriffs and bouncing breasts, sweat-streaked in the noise and rush of the dancing. None of it struck him as being more than window dressing, however. The girls, some of whom he wasn’t certain were even legal, had a wide variety of hair styles, but so often those styles were wild and untamed and multi-coloured. Very few had long hair, and he couldn’t help comparing them to Yukiko. And he found those in front of him lacking every time. Similarly, the odd girl on the dance floor shot him smoky looks and sinuously twisted her body to the beat, a more obvious invitation than a neon sign next to a street-side hawker in Tokyo.

 

And yet it held no appeal to him. The girls were trying hard to catch his eye, yet Yukiko never had to. Maybe that was unfair, but her decorum and gentle voice always grabbed his attention far easier than a shouted greeting. And her iron determination and occasional naive outlook on life both connected with him and made him feel necessary. She was quiet resolve, and reminded him of the strength arcane: mind and will over physical matter.

 

That said tohugh, he had to admit that her physical matter being so perfectly shaped was impossible to ignore. It added to the already amazing package.

 

Souji glanced over the crowd once again before draining his drink and heading to the table to pour another, nodding to the guest next to him and about to pick up his glass when he was crashed into from behind, a warbling and completely off-key _“Seeenpaai!”_ ringing in his ears while a familiar pair of arms clumsily wrapped around his body. He barely had time to brace himself against the drink table against the impact, but he held his footing. He turned around, about to ask Rise why that was necessary–

 

–but she kissed him on the lips, hard, the moment he did. One arm pulled her up against him when it wrapped around his shoulder.

 

He froze. It felt good, there was no denying that, but it was sloppy. Uneven, too much moving, and she was leaving more than a sample of lipstick and spit on him. When he pulled back sharply, indignation and a touch of anger in his throat, he clamped his teeth shut when he saw her.

 

For as long as he’d known her, Rise always took care to look good. Whether it was at school, the tofu shop, hanging out or killing Shadows in the TV world, she always had an air of grace about her, and her clothes clung to her however she wished. Sassy and sexy, happy and cheerful, she could pull off any look she wanted.

 

But now she looked disheveled, and it had to do with more than what she wore. Her hair seemed messier than the party prescribed (Which, he reflected later, didn’t make any sense that he’d think it was wrong; she’d been visiting and dancing for most of the night), her clothes were askew, and her skin was flushed. Not evenly, but rather in blotches, like someone had sprayed paint on her with the nozzle half clogged. Her usual smile was uneven, her lips shivering, and her eyes were both unfocused and completely clear when she looked at him. Almost feverish, he realized with mounting horror.

 

“Rise?” She tried to keep her head straight as she looked at him, but it started bobbling to the side, and she laughed almost hysterically. “Rise, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

 

“Yer sooo serious, Senpai,” she drawled, leaning into him and staring with those unfocused eyes. “You should jus’ chill out, an’ have a drink.”

 

Souji remembered Tatsumi Port Island, and the group’s antics at Club Escapade. The memory, and where they were now, was enough to send a chill down his spine. “Is that what happened? Did you drink something?” She tripped on her own feet, and Souji held her up with a grunt. “Come on, Rise. Talk to me. What did you do?”

 

“Nuthin’, Seeenpai. We were jus’ talkin’.”

 

“What else? This isn’t like before.” And his sharp tone was catching attention from the others around him. It figured. Nothing ever went right.

 

“Beefore?”

 

“At Club Escapade. You’re different this time. What did you drink?”

 

The heat of the party made him sweat, but it was a minor inconvenience. Having an amorous Rise pressed up against him, however, was something else entirely. He reached behind himself and grabbed at his drink and threw it back in two gulps. She looked thoughtful, or as thoughtful as she could, pressed against him and not able to stand on her own. “’M not sure, Senpai.”

 

“That doesn’t help. C’mon, can you walk? It’s time we left.”

 

“But it’s raining, an’ I was gunna–”

 

“Your health matters more now. Can you walk?”

 

Some fans came from behind her, concern written on their face. “Hey, is Risette okay?”

 

Souji stared at them suspiciously before replying. “What did she drink over there? Was it booze?”

 

They looked bewildered, then guilty. “Huh? Oh, uh, well they were serving something over there, but it-“ Then he stopped, looking anywhere but at Rise and Souji.

 

Souji’s eyes narrowed and a sharp retort was on his lips–

 

–And his legs turned to water underneath him. Rise’s weight pushed him back into the table, hard, and his knees nearly buckled. The music, unbearably loud, ripped into his eardrums and rang around his skull. His headache was back with a vengeance. He nearly fell entirely, and would have, if not for a flailing arm grasping the table. His balance was shot. The world tilted at a harsh angle, then back over, and all he could do was grasp the table and hang on for the ride. Rise, distorted and splashed with colour as everything became unbearably bright, mouthed something, but he couldn’t hear anything over the noise of the music. Her weight was gone from his other arm, and he scrambled around for something, anything, to drink. What he found and managed to get down his throat was tonic and normal water. The drink he’d poured for himself earlier, and obviously not the one he’d tossed back first.

 

He held onto the table until the spinning subsided a little. He could feel his legs again. And when he looked up, all he saw was Rise. Her eyes were painful to look at, reflecting every colour of the party straight into his brain, but over the noise he heard her. _Senpai... Help me. Get me out of here._ Pleading. Worry and fear. This he was used to.

 

Maybe he’d imagined it. Maybe it was his subconscious exerting control in the best way it could. Or maybe it really was her, and whatever had been in that drink wasn’t enough to put him down completely. But when he came back to the party around him, he wrapped an arm around Rise and started struggling for the door. Some people got in the way, and were shoved aside. Others tried to help, and only threw them off more. But Rise’s laughter had stopped, and her arms around him felt like they were clinging to a life preserver. It was enough to keep what was left of his mind intact and on the target.

 

He’d never know how they got their shoes on, or how he made it out the door without crashing down the concrete steps. What he did know was that the rain, now pouring hard, was a welcome comfort. The cold, wet wall he leaned against while he caught his balance kept him grounded. He had enough sense to notice Rise wasn’t wearing a jacket, and he pulled an arm out of its sleeve and puller her close, wrapping her up. She seemed a little better, or at least enough to talk normally. Still, both of them being drugged was more than he could deal with right now. Busy or not, Inoue could come and–

 

Only his phone wasn’t there. Souji checked his other pockets, slowly, thoroughly. No phone. He’d either lost it in the party, or during their remarkable egress. He kept the anger down, and checked his pockets again. Nope, his wallet wasn’t there either. Nor was his hat, now that he stopped to notice. They were standing at the edge of an alley, soaking wet, and neither had an easy way home when they needed it most. He started swearing viciously, exercising what control he had over his mind and speech capabilities.

 

“Senpai?” She sounded small, quiet, and vulnerable, but it was better. She was still leaning on him pretty hard though. “We’re not far from the park. Where we saw the fireworks.”

 

Souji looked around, trying to gain his bearings. But it didn’t work. “You sure?” She nodded, shivering in the rain. “Can you get us there?”

 

“Yep. This way.”

 

And they made it, slowly, painstakingly, to the edge of the lake. Souji had to hand it to Rise: for the situation they were in, she’d kept a cool head. She smiled weakly when he told her so, but burrowed into his side more.

 

For all the chances of catching hypothermia, the rain was a godsend for them both. The sensations, the moisture, and how it kept them cool was helping them fight off whatever drugs they’d been slipped. Souji felt his steps more sharply than before, regaining some of his usual grace and balance, and Rise wasn’t slurring her words. They kept up the small talk as they walked along the path, both trying to keep their mind off of how awful they felt.

 

But then there was a set of wolf whistles and cat calls from in front of them. Souji stopped and propped Rise against the railing, staring into the park lights and gloom. And what showed itself was exactly what he didn’t need: Yuhara and some of his flunkies. Souji didn’t recognize most of them, but the unsteady sway to their walk and disheveled appearance told him enough.

 

“Hey there Seta,” Yuhara drawled as he came into the light of one of the lake lamps that lines the shore. “Of all the people to meet by the park. You an’ Risette out for a stroll?”

 

“Get out of the way, Yuhara,” Souji growled, anger and adrenaline trickling into his veins. At least he could talk straight again.

 

“Dude, did you say Risette?” one of the others asked, a slight but notable slur to his words. Including Yuhara, there were five of them.

 

“Yep,” Yuhara replied smugly. “Seta here’s good friends with her, and that’s the lady herself on his arm.” More cheers and whistles went up, and Souji gritted his teeth while pulling Rise protectively closer. Yuhara kept going. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’d like to chat with her. A little more one on one with the idol queen herself, you know?” They apparently thought the world of the idea, if the loud and mostly coherent response was any indication. Rise herself had stayed silent through the whole exchange.

 

Souji stopped and pulled his coat down from over his head, taking the group in more carefully. Whether they intended to or not, they’d cut him off. The path wasn’t very wide between the trees and the rail. He knew he couldn’t run, not with Rise still groggy and his own head swimming. And he was beginning to doubt Yuhara and the others were going to let him leave anytime soon.

 

“C’mon Seta,” Yuhara drawled. “Just stay here an’ talk to us. You and Risette can keep us company.”

 

“It’s raining,” Souji replied coldly. “And we’re both tired. Now get out of my way.”

 

Yuhara’s smile was too fake to set him at ease. “Now that ain’t very nice.”

 

Souji tightened his hold on Rise and started moving forward, mind working as fast as it could. He stopped near the bench beside the path when Yuhara and the others closed the noose, cutting off his way forward and backward, beginning to murmur among themselves. He couldn’t catch their words, but the jeering and laughs gave him plenty of ideas. The rain soaked through his hair and was beginning to run down his shirt, but it also cooled him off and distracted him from the vertigo and drugged cloudiness edging his vision. “I’m not going to say it again, Yuhara,” Souji growled, drawing himself up. “Get out of my way.”

 

“We just wanna chat with Risette, Seta,” he insisted lecherously. “Leave her here and we’ll make sure she’s looked after.”

 

“Not happening.”

 

“We can be pretty convincing,” Souji heard from behind him. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

 

They closed in a step more, and Souji glared back. His heart pumped faster, his muscles loosened, and he felt an old, familiar clarity engulf his mind. It was the same cold anger that accompanied him in the TV world, both a weapon and armour. Every sense heightened, from hearing individual raindrops to smelling the heavy musk of humidity and leaves and loam. “I’m probably the last person you want to fight right now,” Souji told them. His voice rattled up his throat and grated across the pavement, deeper, darker, filling the hollow cracks inside him and hardening his chest like ice. “Consider this your last warning.” Rise cringed with a whimper and held on to him tighter. He wrapped his arms protectively around her before walking to a nearby bench. Ignoring the comments around him, he laid her down gently. This time she let go and hugged her arms around herself, curling up defensively. He stopped, letting the anger twist and curl around any sense of restraint, silencing his mind’s protests for the last time before he set his jacket over her carefully and turned to meet the five sets of eyes around him.

 

Souji wasn’t normally a violent person. Until he’d entered the TV world, the closest he’d ever come to a real sword had been a museum display, and the only physical adventures he’d had were the vicarious hero fantasies he’d indulged in when he was a child. Even after Izanagi had awakened and combat became a new after-school club, he’d never entertained the notion of hurting another human being with what he’d learned, with the possible exception of Adachi. He didn’t need the attention from the other students, or his parents for that matter, and he could usually talk his way out of things, or just walk away. It took Yosuke and Chie to bring that harder part of himself out on this side of the TV screen, and even then only briefly. By itself, this situation shouldn’t have made him ready and even eager for violence. He could shrug off insults and, if need be, disable someone before things got out of hand.

 

But this was different. The drug in his drink had wreaked havoc on his inhibitions, adding a load to his already-strained mind after the bad few days he’d had. His nightmares, the unrelenting rain, the lack of sleep, what he was seeing in himself and how little he liked it, the fright he’d gotten at the party, and finally the fact that Rise’s safety was at stake, all compounded and crashed into his discipline and ground it to splinters. That it was Yuhara leading this pack, he reasoned grimly, became more than a just motivating factor. It was a bonus.

 

“Who said anything about fighting?” another student asked, tipping to and fro unsteadily.

 

“I did,” Souji replied, now as cold as frozen iron. “You’re not touching Rise, and you haven’t left yet. Near as I can tell, we can stand here all night and die of a chill, or we can hurry up and get this over with.”

 

“In a rush, Seta?” Yuhara inquired, his own eyes taking on a dangerous glint. “Just be a good little honour student and get lost.”

 

“You really are pathetic Yuhara, you know that? You clearly don’t think anything of me, but you can’t come here and take me on yourself? You have to harass Rise and fight me with lackeys?”

 

Yuhara shrugged, not giving an inch. “Whatever works. And I didn’t need to ask for help – they wanted you for themselves.”

 

“Why? What did I do to them?”

 

“Oh, you know. Their girls don’t talk to them like they did before you moved here. They hate the captain taking your side on the court. The usual. Lots of people don’t like you, Seta. These guys just wanted to say it to your face.”

 

Souji noted the crowd shifting and growing restless. The time for negotiations was over, and there was no need to hold back. “We’ll see. Come on.”

 

No invitation was necessary. The first ran in from the side with a wild swing, and had Souji’s reflexes been normal, or he himself been as intoxicated as they were, it might have been the start of a horrible night for him and Rise.

 

But they weren’t, and he wasn’t. He dodged the first punch faster than they could follow and returned a hard blow of his own, colliding hard with his opponent’s jaw. The stranger shouted in pain, but Souji, his blood up, kept coming. He grabbed his opponent’s wrist, stopping his stagger backward, and lashed out a kick to the torso that Chie’d drilled into him for near to a year.

 

It blasted the wind from the stranger and left him gasping, fighting to stay conscious, on the ground in a heap. Souji spun fast, dodging the first blow from the next assailant and taking a heavy hit to the ribs for his trouble before he slipped around another punch and put the second of the five down with an uppercut that left his wrist tingling. He was only starting to breathe hard, his battle awareness singing along every nerve, and stared hard at the remaining three.

 

They’d had a chance to rush him, but were holding still, unsure looks skimming among them. They’d expected an easy fight, he guessed, and a quick tumble, after which they would do whatever they planned to do with Rise. They weren’t prepared for someone with better-than-sober reflexes who could hit like a bullet train. Souji let a frigid grin slip across his face before grabbing one shoulder and snapping his neck sharply to the side, the _crack_ easily heard over the rain.

 

“Next?” No one moved. “Come on, that’s not it, is it?” Even he noticed his voice change. It was deeper. Darker. The very sound of it buffered against any doubt or hesitation. And despite being soaked clean through now, he didn’t feel the cold. Or the ache in his ribs. Or anything at all. He heard Rise murmur “Senpai?” behind him, and the word never came close to him. His headache was gone, his mind was clear and vision crystallized into perfect clarity. He could see the others without a problem while the rush of battle pounded through his veins. And he wanted more.

 

Instead of waiting, he walked into the centre of them, careless and itching to go again.

 

Rather than waiting or hesitating, his presence either galvanized them or snapped their nerve, because this time they rushed him. Souji lashed a kick at one of them and a backhand to a second, but the second caught his arm and wrenched it behind him, grabbing furiously for his free arm while Yuhara landed a hard punch to his face. And for a moment, the world jarred sharply past Souji’s eyes. But they expected someone less used to hard punishment, and he tensed his chest when the kick came, blasting his wind out while he remained conscious and in control.

 

When the second punch knocked Souji’s head to the side, he rolled with momentum, kicking at the first stranger’s leg and stopping his push forward. Then he wrenched his arm hard against the stranger behind him, breaking his hold long enough for Souji’s elbow to snap up and clip him in the jaw. Not a hard hit, but enough. Souji backpedalled, grabbed onto the stranger’s arm, and spun sharply to avoid the next strikes. The reverse in momentum broke the hold on Souji, and he wrapped his arm around the stranger’s while kicking him off balance. Then he levered him face first into the pavement with a sharp grunt. The hard impact was impossible to ignore, and the last stranger swore sharply and rushed him. Souji slipped forward, blocking the angry strikes while dodging to the side, keeping Yuhara from getting a clean shot in. Then Souji narrowly avoided the next strike and landed a hard hook, two, and then a sharp kick to the last stranger’s stomach, putting him down hard.

 

Yuhara got in two hits on Souji’s back before he spun, clipping Yuhara’s knee with a stray kick that stopped him in place. Souji’s fists cannoned out, the first blow stopping any forward momentum, the second knocking him back. But Yuhara stayed upright, a snarl on his face. Souji felt the grin split his lips – after all the crap he’d put up with from Yuhara lately, this was positively cathartic. Souji blocked two more hits and landed a hard left to Yuhara’s side, then dodged and clipped him with another kick. Yuhara discarded any tactics by then and swung hard. Souji ducked to the side and lunged with a haymaker, all of his weight behind it. The sound impact was a cross between blasted air and a pained groan as he fell to the pavement.

 

And then it was over. Souji stood unsteadily with his ribs loudly protesting, and every breath that made his face flare up in pain. His knuckles were sore, gone soft from months of his most taxing activities being housework and basketball practice. And the world was spinning more now than when he’d been drugged. But he’d won. Over the groans and soft scrapes of the others crawling away, that fact blared in his ears like a ship’s fog horn.

 

Catching enough of himself to see Yuhara struggling to get back up, he strode over as cold as ever and knelt down to face his schoolmate. Yuhara lashed out, trying to catch him off-balance, but ended up with his wrist in the vice that Souji’s hand became. Yuhara tried pulling back or pushing forward to throw Souji off. Nothing.

 

“Done now?” Souji’s voice still hadn’t returned to normal, deep and dark as though it had scraped up a well.

 

“Fuck you,” Yuhara spat, pain and anger clear on his face.

 

Souji replied with a sharp backhand. “Not interested. Are you going to try this again?”

 

“Pfft. What do you think, pretty boy?”

 

With his mind as cold as his body was becoming, Souji’s reply was to start twisting Yuhara’s wrist until the arm began to follow and the prone teen started squirming, trying to relieve the pressure, but was in too much pain to twist any more than he already had. Souji then snaked his free fingers between Yuhara’s and pried his fist open, bending the fingers back to the point of pain. “Are you listening?” Souji received a murder-filled glare in return, but no words. So he twisted harder until Yuhara was squirming in place, trying to break free. “Well?” The prone teen finally, grudgingly, nodded. “Good. Yoshiro-kun needs you in one piece. And you wouldn’t be much of a star forward with broken fingers, would you?” Yuhara pulled back a little, glancing at his trapped hand. Souji glared and tightened his hold, eliciting a sharp hiss. “There are twenty seven bones in the human hand; I can give you a demonstration.”

 

“No,” Yuhara growled, less resisting.

 

Souji leaned in close, slate-grey eyes dominating Yuhara’s vision. “Then if you don’t want a repeat performance of tonight, you’ll stay away from me. Do whatever you want with those brain-dead idiots, but you try this again, I’ll forget how much Yoshiro-kun needs you. Got it?”

 

No words. Just a shaky nod.

 

“And the same applies to Rise; don’t ever say her name around me again.”

 

Another nod.

 

Souji released his hold and Yuhara gasped in relief, cradling his strained arm. “Good. Now get out of my sight.” Yuhara didn’t need to be told twice, and was limping into the rain before Souji turned back to Rise. The battle high was fading, and there was no sense of victory. Relief, certainly, and he had come out of the fight ahead of the others, but there was not thrill, no rich taste of triumph. Monsters in the TV world were one thing, and he didn’t doubt what Yuhara and the others would have done to Rise if he hadn’t fought them off. But letting loose so willingly, venting on normal people... The thought wasn’t a comforting one.

 

Surrounded by the harsh vacancy of the park and the heavy rain, the _squelch_ of his shoes wasn’t enough to break the grim mood on them both. Rise’s eyes were clearer than before and she sat up when he approached, about to hand him his coat. Souji shook his head. “You need it more than I do.”

 

“You’re soaked,” she protested.

 

“And having a jacket’s not going to change that now.”

 

She looked closer at his face, her eyes tracing his bruised cheeks and jaw. “Are you alright?”

 

The cold rain was sapping any nonchalance he had the energy for, but he tried for it anyway with a shrug. “I’ve been through worse. I’ll live.”

 

She nodded and got off the bench, swallowed whole by his coat and using it as an umbrella.

 

Talk was subdued as they made their way to Rise’s apartment. Souji worked on keeping his chill-induced shivers under control, and Rise’s words were short and clipped. There was nothing of the bubbly starlet in her now. The analytical part of his mind, always on no matter how tired or beat up he was, turned this over in its metaphorical hands. Granted, he wasn’t expecting her to fawn over him like he was a hero. She’d seen him go through worse with more at stake since they’d met. But now she seemed withdrawn, reluctant to meet his eyes, and standing next to him without so much as a hand on his arm, never mind wrapping herself around it like he was so used to. Yet he didn’t know how to broach the topic. Or what he’d say if he did. He’d replayed the events over in his mind and knew, no matter how he wanted to dress it up, that the fight had stopped being about Rise fairly early on. And he didn’t like what that said about him.

 

When they arrived at her apartment, Rise handed his jacket back to him. He slid it back on, wincing at the pull of what was starting to feel like some cracked ribs and his soaked shirt clinging to bruised skin. Rise stood in the doorway, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t place, before pulling him down and giving him a short peck on the corner of the mouth. With the rain pulling his mood into the gutters, all he could give was a half-hearted smile in reply. “Thank you,” she told him soberly. “For everything, Senpai.”

 

“It’s nothing. Are you going to be alright?”

 

She nodded, holding onto the doorframe. “I can see straight now, and my stomach’s... well, I’ll be okay. I’m sorry you had to get caught up in this.”

 

Souji looked down at her, puzzled. “What?”

 

“The party. Those creeps. That was my fault.”

 

Souji shook his head, regretting it when the motion made his face burn. “You didn’t drug yourself, and neither of us could have guessed Yuhara would’ve been stupid enough to try that tonight.”

 

“Still, it feels like I-“

 

“You’re wrong, Rise,” he said as gently as he could. “Things got out of control and we handled it as best we could. That’s life.”

 

She didn’t look convinced, but nodded anyway. “Well, call me tomorrow, okay?”

 

“Sure. Good night.”

 

She nodded and slipped into her apartment, locking it soundly behind her. Souji shook his head and turned toward home, noticing the cold less and less with every step.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 

Kujikawa Rise could attribute her success as a singer to a lot of things and people. Having a music-oriented family, namely a mother who still taught high school music theory and a father who’d sung tenor most of his life, a close older cousin who loved theatre and used her to practice his lines when he rehearsed for drama club, growing up near a park where the local universities always had bands practicing or putting on concerts, and the lungs and vocal cords to reach any note she needed to. She took to singing at a young age like a bird would take to the four winds, and Inoue always credited her upbringing and raw talent as the reason she could beat out the other idols in almost any singing contest she entered.

 

But there was something that almost no one knew about Kujikawa Rise. Something she hadn’t told Inoue or the agency staff, her fans, or anyone from Inaba. Not even Souji-senpai.

 

She was born with perfect pitch. No matter the instrument or the person singing, she always knew which notes were being played without ever looking at the music sheets. As she grew, she developed a feel for what notes should go where and when, and every time someone asked her why, her answer was a shrug and ‘Just because.’ And she was usually right.

 

She kept it to herself after she started middle school. Her parents found it fascinating and encouraged it at every turn, but scoring better than anyone else in every music class and choir club she ever joined did nothing for her popularity. Yes, the students wanted her around at first for help and advice, but when she started pushing herself into realms of musical competence that even the teachers couldn’t tap into, it quickly made her an outcast. The students said she was trying too hard to impress and called her a show-off or a copycat. She’d told Souji-senpai once that she didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. Her perfect pitch wasn’t the only reason for that, but it was a big one.

 

Her gift made her into a sort of carnival freak at school. So she kept it to herself and only practiced around home or in the park. And then her cousin signed her up for singing auditions until Inoue saw her and signed her on the spot. She’d taken off from there, and almost never looked back.

 

Her career as an idol and singer had been the perfect stage for her talents, and she flourished under the spotlight. Part of her wanted to show up the students who’d teased her and put her down when she was younger, to show the country just what she could do. That ambitious child, however, hadn’t considered all the extra baggage that accompanied such fame. The interviews, the loss of any sort of privacy, and the rumours when she wanted to keep something to herself weighed her down like chains. Ironically, the cold shoulder she got from the idols and singers who saw her as competition, or the disingenuous sucking up from the ones who wanted to hitch a ride on her success, was comforting to her in its familiarity.

 

It wasn’t until Inaba, the place she’d gone to get away from the paparazzi and fakeness of the idol industry, that she found the drive to go the distance. And something much more than that.

 

Awakening Himiko was a musical thrill like nothing she’d ever experienced. Notes and chords and vocal harmonies she’d only heard in her dreams ran up one side of her and down the other, and it was raw, unbridled euphoria every time. She could hear every note in perfect synchrony, and it fed her perfect pitch as much as it wanted and still had more to give. When she asked the others about their Personas, the most common response she’d ever gotten was that summoning them was easy, natural, but hard to explain beyond that. Souji-senpai said he heard voices or words from some of them, but not all, while Yosuke-senpai said Jiraiya and Susano-o were always accompanied by an airy light-headedness that never tripped him up or put him off-balance. When she asked Naoto about it, the detective reported nothing outside the usual adrenaline rush, and theorized that maybe Yosuke-senpai and Souji-senpai had acclimated to their Personas and identified with them on a deeper level than those who’d awakened theirs later. Perhaps it was a symptom of how seriously they took their roles as the Team’s leaders. Or something like that; Naoto’s explanations were hard to follow. Either way, while Himiko’s sensor may have looked like a satellite dish, Rise always perceived the information she got through sound. Locations, floor diagrams, people, friends or foes, she could absorb it, perceive it, and make sense of it in a flash.

 

And more than that, she could pick up the sounds of the others when they fought and summoned their Personas. Each of them was different and distinct, and it never ceased to fascinate her when she heard the phantom chords surrounding her friends in battle. To her, Yosuke-senpai was the most harmonious. A diverse combination of notes that no instrument could produce, but spoke of balance, soft or harsh, loud or quiet, and always in a harmony that she wanted to dance to. Souji-senpai was accompanied by a clear, triumphant horn section, whether it was saxophones or trumpets or trombones. She thought Souji-senpai’s particular sound was a coincidence, but then she’d heard him practicing with Ayane-chan by the Samegawa one afternoon after school, and knew it wasn’t a mistake. He played with confidence and passion, putting his heart into the performance for his audience of two, and who knew how many fish and crustaceans. Ayane-chan herself wasn’t to be ignored either. Rise had heard professional trombone players in concerts before, and good Lord above, that girl had nothing to be ashamed of.

 

Chie-senpai was a complex combination of fast-paced drums and bells, like a marching band near a church, and they were always in a flux of volume. Rising, falling, some combination of the two, but never content to stay steady or play to a set beat. Yukiko-senpai’s suited her in a strange way. Konohana Sakuya and Amaterasu always appeared with a classical string accompaniment, be it harps or violins, and Rise always heard several shamisens and guqins in the background, playing a tune she’d never heard before but always wanted more of. Kanji’s was no surprise. He fought to the sound of electric bass guitars and drums, like a heavy metal band playing a war beat, and yet there was a very subtle addition behind it, something she could hear but not identify, that was separate from the overarching noise, but so intriguing that it always caught her attention. She never had managed to figure out what it sounded like, no matter how many times he tore up a whole corridor. Teddie’s Personas sounded as odd as she expected. Stated and outgoing, a mix of electric keyboards and j-pop synthesizers; when he fought, the sounds were all over the place. As irrepressible and eccentric as he was himself. And Naoto’s Personas appeared to the sound of flutes of all shapes and sizes and tones. Rise knew the last addition to the team would never live it down if she knew how well the perky, bouncing tunes suited her pint-sized Sukuna-Hikona and Yamato-Takeru. Rise also never told anyone that Naoto’s Personas had the same subtle, almost imperceptible accompaniment that Kanji’s did, down to the timing and last elusive note.

 

Her knack for sounds and music also cut the other way though. Mitsuo Kubo was a cacophony of voices. Young, old, male, female, his own voice and that of countless others all speaking, shouting, whispering, screaming at once. The words were angry, resentful, and filled with fear, and they were all making noise at the same time. She could sympathize with him a little; if she always had that much noise in her head, she’d have gone crazy too. Adachi in the TV world was a discordant mess of angry notes and sharp, jagged sounds, never settling in place or trying for any kind of harmony, and Ameno-sagiri was a hulking mass that was utterly still. She couldn’t hear anything from the entity, even when it was talking to them, and despite feeling the same presence as when Teddie’s Shadow manifested, it still felt like Ameno-sagiri wasn’t real, despite its sheer size.

 

But of all her experiences in Inaba, there were two beings that truly terrified her. They haunted her at night when she’d had too much wasabi during dinner, too much sugar for dessert, or when she went to bed hungry. She knew the others had their problem areas. She knew Souji-senpai hated the rain and had nightmares about Nanako-chan. She knew Teddie was frightened of being alone and never slept anywhere near a TV, nor could he stand being around dolls or stuffed toys by himself for very long. She was no exception; there were nights she woke up screaming and couldn’t get far enough away from her bed or couch. And just like Teddie, she put on her best face and bore it all with a smile, usually after an extended crying session and an hour of intense dancing and loud music.

 

What struck the almost-deepest, second most horrifying chord in her was when they faced Izanami in all her grisly glory. Bare bones and rotting organs hanging like a macabre tapestry was a sight that she could never forget, and the stench had nearly made her faint. Because Izanami, for all her talk of being an ancient deity and the legends of her and Izanagi creating the world, made no sound at all. And it was far worse than Ameno-sagiri because where the imbedded mass of spikes and pipes was like still air around a rock, Izanami seemed to suck the sound in and leave nothing behind. She was a hole in reality, a void that swallowed the music Rise had known all her life, and that concept of nothingness scared her, months later, even more than the chilling touch of death had. Really, she’d been dead, if that’s even what happened to her, for so short a time that it seemed like Souji-senpai had pulled them all back into the fight before it could really sink in.

 

But the one thing that scared her the most, no matter how much she tried to justify it to herself, was the reason she didn’t invite Souji-senpai in to dry off and warm up after he’d fought to protect her. She didn’t lack for comforts to offer; she had plenty of towels to use, tea and hot chocolate stocked in her cupboards (she loved the smell of coffee, but couldn’t stand the taste), and even a comfy couch to sleep on if he didn’t want to go home. Seeing him soaked and shivering like a bedraggled puppy left out in the rain tugged at her heart strings, and she knew she seemed ungrateful because of it.

 

She couldn’t help it. It was why she didn’t say much on their way to her apartment, why she couldn’t bring herself to wrap around his arm like always or check him for injuries, why she kept the same distance between them every step of the way. She could tell herself it was because she felt guilty about dragging him to that party and not being careful enough to watch what she drank. And that was true. She didn’t remember much between that drink and sitting on the park bench, but she had a feeling that it was awkward. It was a good reason, but it wasn’t the first one in her mind. She didn’t talk to him because she saw some of the hits he’d taken and knew he had to have a headache, so she didn’t want to aggravate it. She didn’t touch him because she saw how much pain he was in, or would be in soon, and didn’t want to touch something sensitive. She kept her distance so that if he stumbled she’d be able to react faster and not trip on him or get caught on an arm. They were all sound reasons.

 

But they weren’t why she was sitting against her bathroom sink without any lights on, still dripping wet in her soaked clothes while her hair slowly dried and started to curl. And she _hated_ it when it curled. Those reasons weren’t why she’d locked the door on Souji-senpai and hadn’t called Inoue to tell him what had happened. The reason she was sitting there in the dark, curled up in a puddle of rainwater on the tile floor, and staring into the shadows and grout lines and fighting with her own demons, the occasional unconscious tear trickling down her face...

 

Was because of Seta Souji, her Senpai, closest friend, and inspiration and reminder of everything she wanted to be in life. He ranked first of the things in her life, from Inaba or beyond it, that terrified her to the very foundation of her soul. And not because he represented change, or clarity, or showed her a part of herself that she’d never come to terms with, like in one of the cheap romance novels she indulged in during flights and train rides. No, this was pure, unadulterated fear.

 

It wasn’t constant. It wasn’t even all that often. He was still sweet, reserved, kind and considerate and smart. He was still faithful to Yukiko-senpai, still talked about Nanako-chan, still looked out for his friends no matter what. And she’d been around him when he was depressed, or frustrated. She’d seen him at his best and worst and most places in between, and she’d never have guessed all those months ago on the bench beside the street near the shrine in Inaba that the boy who’d set out to make a connection with her and help her out, sunbeams dancing around still-damp hair, would frighten her as much as he could. But he did, and nothing she told herself changed that.

 

It had started when Nanako-chan was abducted and taken to Heaven. Souji-senpai had been relentless, pushing through the soft-toned streets and paths of paradise with a wild edge that defied any kind of caution. And in the week it had taken them to get to her, more than once he’d stop at a door, bleeding with torn armour and shredded clothes, and look back at them as if he’d forgotten they were there. None complained about the inhuman pace he’d set, though some were clearly worried that he’d take a chance too big to recover from. He’d stare at them, beleaguered and strung as tight as he himself was. Then he’d open the door, snap his fingers, and take them back to the entrance. He ignored any questions or protests and told them all to get some rest. But his voice was cold, empty, like it was coming out of a spare cargo container on a ship. She never thought he was angry or disappointed with them, but to hear him, usually so calm and uniquely expressive, to sound so defeated, so dead, echoed through her and sank like a lead weight in her stomach. Even when he didn’t call the following day, she couldn’t forget how he sounded. And when he did call, his voice sent chills through her over the phone, an effect his appearance didn’t help at all: his hair was lank, his eyes bloodshot, clothes rumpled and stained (and Senpai was nothing if not presentable, no matter what), and his voice sounded dead, no matter what words he used.

 

When they got Nanako-chan back, he came back to life a little, and when they confronted Namatame, he sounded angry. Not like he had before, but genuinely lively and passionate, stopping them from making a terrible mistake and bloodying their hands. Nanako’s revival, their investigation into Adachi, Teddy’s return, through it all he sounded like he was back to normal, and Rise could have brushed it off as a one-time thing.

 

But then they’d met Ameno-sagiri, and her nightmares began.

 

**_Flashback_ **

****

Souji-senpai stared at the entity surrounding Adachi with disbelief and anger, and something more. He’d dropped his sword in the fight and held his ruined left hand against his right shoulder, trying to staunch the bleeding while Yosuke-senpai and Yukiko-senpai worked their magic on him.

 

“You mean everything we’ve done up to now, the Shadows, the fights, they’ve all been a test? Some twisted experiment for you to assess us?” Rise shivered – he sounded angry, but that dead quality was back in his voice.

 

_“Yes. Your desires needed to be revealed, so they could be met.”_ The reply came from different angles at different pitches, but Rise could still hear another voice, coming from across an enormous distance.

 

Before she could say anything, Yosuke-senpai, mostly done on their leader’s shoulder, stepped forward. “Bullshit! None of us asked for this!”

 

_“But your Shadows were born of you. Your wishes were made manifest. And you denied them, denied yourselves. You craved an alternative to the reality before you.”_

 

“And what about our Shadows? They nearly killed us! How can people change if they’re dead?!”

 

_“A consequence. Unfortunate, but still proof to your desires. Had you never denied reality, there would have been no difference. No change. Only the fog. And despite your efforts, the fog will continue. Humanity’s will cannot be stopped.”_

 

Souji-senpai stepped forward, and she couldn’t see his face. But his voice. Over the static of the TV world, she could still hear his voice. “Everything we’ve done up to this point, Nanako’s death, Adachi leading us around like rats in a maze, and you’re going to destroy us anyway?”

 

_“Your struggles are commendable, but futile. Mankind desires its false images, its separation from reality. And the desires of many will come before those of a few.”_

 

Blue light erupted around Souji-senpai, and half a deck of phantom cards twirled around him in a flurry. “I don’t want the world you’re talking about. I want things the way they were before. And I’ll fight you to make it happen.” His words were inspirational, but his voice still made her shiver. It was Senpai, but something was different. Was it him she was sensing? Or...

 

Ameno-sagiri’s voices became distant, almost whimsical or contemplative. _“Ah. Your Personas. Human will overcoming one’s Shadows. An unexpected result. An anomaly? Or a new path for humanity? I must know the truth.”_

 

The others flanked Souji-senpai, glowing in synchrony with him, their respective sounds erupting around them like an ascending orchestra. “Then allow me to give you a demonstration.”

 

Adachi burst into flames as the Shadows gathered, and the others lashed out immediately when their foe’s true form appeared. The fog surrounded Ameno-sagiri, however, and their strikes hit nothing at all. When its eye flashed in retaliation, Souji-senpai raised a hand to stop the forked lightning racing toward them, then growled “My turn.”

 

He took several steps forward, separating himself from the others, and held out his torn left hand, summoning a card. Rise had seen him call on countless Personas since she’d met the team, but this card was black. Faceless. The noise of the TV world died down and there was a heavy hush around their leader, like everyone was waiting for him to speak.

 

She saw the others flicker and glow, saw the streams of light coalesce around Senpai, like he was drawing from them, but she didn’t feel any different. If anything, everything still felt muffled.

 

Then she saw it. The hazy white cloak, tattered and immeasurably old, but regal and foreboding. It fell around Senpai, protected him and cut him off from their foe. Hovering next to the cloaked figure was a worn and scratched trumpet with illegible writing running down the length and tarnished wings grafted to the end. Rise felt pure terror spring up in her heart when she realized the figure was the manifestation of Senpai’s mind. The usual blue glow around him darkened, and the ground under him snapped and buckled. The card he’d been holding shivered, trembled as pure energy carved into the rock around them, scribing _XX_ on the black surface. The cloak pulled back to reveal the upper half of a skeleton, bony hands, empty eye sockets, vacant grin and all. It radiated an aura of power that nearly pushed her over, and Senpai’s usual horns now sounded like a funeral fanfare. Like Senpai’s own voice did, and she shook until her legs almost buckled.

 

Then a hollow, raspy breath was taken in, and a voice just like Senpai’s, as dead as the figure itself, rattled her to the core. Calm, regal, inhuman. _"...'Tis no worth in conversation. A lamb's voice is but mere bleating before the sound of my trumpet, like the falling leaves... What shall cause the downfall? The stars, the Earth, or the world of humans?”_ Senpai’s breathing grew laboured, like he was struggling to summon his Persona completely. Or maybe Senpai was struggling to hold himself in check. Or perhaps it was the pain he was in from being impaled through the shoulder. Regardless, a skeletal hand lowered to rest on his arm. “ _Now singest thou to me with the voice of thy soul, that thou might keep the world from ending..._ _"_

 

Wild lightning snapped around Souji-senpai, thunder and raw energy breaking loose as he raised his hand and crushed the card in his bloody fist. He inhaled, then shouted in defiance to their enemy. “ _Israfel!”_

 

The explosion as the Persona fully manifested tossed her mind around like a toy boat in a hurricane, but then she saw the skeleton raise its trumpet, and its cloak drew in, a mimicry of the lungs it no longer had.

 

And the sound of that trumpet... Dear God, she wanted to run screaming, to gouge her ears to a bloody, unhearing mess, to force herself into unconsciousness, _anything_ to never hear it again. It was loud, it sounded just like Senpai’s horn section, and it carried a deep tone of raw destruction on an unmatchable scale. A single blast of sound accompanied by the screams of untold millions. A call of the end of existence, of everything she knew and loved, in a heartbeat.

 

**_End Flashback_ **

 

She’d never know how she kept her feet and mind during that battle. She’d never know how she walked away from Ameno-sagiri with the others, in victory, on her own legs without having shed a tear. What she did know was that, after she got home, she went through every song she owned, and plenty she didn’t, and played them until her ears rang. She went into stages of blank semi-consciousness and crying mixed with loud music and almost violent dancing to drive the sounds of her beloved Senpai from her mind. She knew she was insufferably cheerful afterwards, but it was how she tried to cope.

 

By the time Senpai was getting ready to leave Inaba for Kofu, she’d succeeded in keeping those memories out of her head every time she saw him or the others brought up the fight. For the most part.

 

But tonight, hearing his voice, unchanged in the months since their fight against Adachi, had pulled all her nightmares to the front of her mind. The horns of his Personas were absent, but that was a small consolation; hearing him sound empty and dead, seeing him lose control, revel in the fight, had been enough.

 

She knew he wasn’t like that. Since their fights with Ameno-sagiri and Izanami, he’d been the same charming and gorgeous Senpai as he always was. She knew he was a good person, a great person, no matter what he thought. And Rise swore to spend as much time with him as she could, to show him how to have fun again. But it didn’t matter. She could tell herself whatever she wanted, but that didn’t stop the nightmares from coming to call, grabbing hold and never letting go every time she heard that flat, dead voice. It didn’t change the simple fact that that part of him, the wanton destructiveness in his soul, was the one thing in life she feared above anything else.

 

It was all these thoughts, all the memories, that tore a choked _“I still love you, Senpai. But, I can’t...”_ from her trembling lips before Kujikawa Rise’s occasional shed tear broke into outright bawling. She cried in raw, wracking sobs so strong that they left her stomach feeling sore, so strong they nearly made her sick. She cried long after she’d run out of tears to cry. And it wasn’t until a telemarketer called at some ungodly hour that she managed to pull herself together and flop into bed, looking like a complete wreck with frizzy hair, damp clothes and tear-streaked skin.

 

When Inoue came to check on her the next morning, she was all songs and smiles again. But she’d always reach for the dial when she heard trumpets in any song for the next few days.

 

**Author’s Notes, Post Script:** Israfel is the name of the archangel that Trumpeter is based off of. Plus it just sounds better. Yes, I know Trumpeter is, according to P4, of a lower level than, say, Yoshitsune. But the lore behind Trumpeter would scare me more than one of Japan’s national heroes, no matter how badass he was. And Lucifer and some of the other high-level Personas seemed a little too obvious. Much as I’d love to take credit for the quote, it’s on the MegaTen wiki site, and the quote itself comes from SMT: Strange Journey’s version of Trumpeter.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

It was strange how different ceiling tiles were across Japan, despite their having the same manufacturer and identical designs. It was something that threw him off in Inaba, how the ceiling in the living room and his bedroom were asymmetrical and lacked the prefabricated feel of every house he’d ever lived in. The Amagi Inn was even more alien in its hand-crafted feel, with individual planks of wood catching his eye every time he was there. Never mind the fine china and the sheer feel of age and decorum that saturated the hallways and rooms, the ceiling and the floors were what stuck out in his mind as a true division from the prefabricated shells he’d known all his life.

 

The first cookie-cutter design he’d noticed, the product of a long, sleepless night when he’d been eleven, was a grey flea-bitten surface surrounded by sharp, clean lines exactly ten inches from corner to corner. It looked like someone trying to border in a patch of sand at the beach, only the idea was ridiculous to Souji, even at that age, and so he’d never warmed up to the view. The next house had white stippling with bumps and a needle-like surface, and during days when he’d been truly bored he’d counted and laid out the spikes on a grid in his mind, often only to lose count and start over. Next was an even, unbroken ceiling of paint and drywall mud. He hated that design; it felt like the padded room of a hospital for the clinically insane. The designs began to vary a little, but despite the attention he gave them in his idle time, he never found one he truly liked. It kept his mind sharp, but dulled his usual keen interest and eye for detail. And that hadn’t changed, not across the years or the miles since his childhood. Even now, he was staring up at an unbroken ceiling and wishing he could turn his head for a change of view.

 

“I’m off,” Yuuma called over his shoulder out of habit, expertly juggling work attaché, long coat, cell phone and umbrella all at once.

 

“Have a good day,” Souji replied dully, laying on the couch and facing away from the entrance, the morning after his scrap in the park. He snorted softly as his father opened and shut the door without a backward glance, not noticing the frozen gel pack on his son’s face. Souji pulled the frigid compress away for a moment and gingerly poked his face with his fingers, grimacing when the throbbing pain and dull ache persisted. It didn’t feel like he’d broken anything, and he’d taken harder hits than what Yuhara and his flunkies could dish out. But that didn’t change the fact that it still hurt. At least his ribs weren’t sore anymore – he had his scars to thank for that.

 

Souji flipped the gel pack over and pressed it against a new area, suppressing a hiss of pain. Thanks to the rain and colder temperatures, there wasn’t much swelling to contend with. And after Inaba, he didn’t bruise easily either – he turned faded yellow instead of black and blue, which suited his hair and skin much better. But laying on his couch on a Sunday and tending his wounds, staring at the ceiling and counting the bumps and ridges where the contractors had cracked and patched the surface, was becoming frustrating, enough so that he didn’t hear his mother approaching to head out the door as well, talking smoothly into the phone in her hand.

 

“I’ll see you later, Souji,” she told him after twisting her cell phone out of the way.

 

Souji waved in reply, not turning over or looking back. The movement, however, called Izumi’s attention to her son, and she stopped moving toward the door.

 

“I... Souji, what- What? No, I’m here. Something’s come up though, I’ll call you back.” And she snapped her phone shut before stepping over to the couch. Her son looked up curiously, not the least bit abashed or concerned that she saw him in that state, one half of his face lightly bruised and an icepack covering the other half.

 

“Is anything wrong, Mother?” Souji asked as calmly as ever. “It’s not like you to cut off work calls like that.”

 

She dropped her attaché case and tossed her coat onto the back of the couch. “What happened to you?”

 

Souji shrugged, as best he could while laying on the couch. “I got into a fight last night. Nothing serious.” He turned his stare back to the ceiling. Four. Five. Six- wait, was that a lump?

 

“Nothing serious?” Izumi asked incredulously, standing in front of the couch. “Let me see.”

 

“Don’t worry about me, Mother. You’re going to be late.”

 

“I’m not asking again,” she told him firmly, a hard set to her features Souji hadn’t seen before. “Let me see.”

 

Souji blinked at her, a touch bemused by a strong side, or at least a less accommodating one, to his mother, but pushed himself off the couch, then to his feet before tossing the icepack to the nearby table and facing her. She immediately pushed herself up to look closer at the bruises, her fingers raising as though to move his head to one side or the other, before he brushed her hands aside. “No need to make it worse,” he murmured.

 

Her expression was conflicted, troubled, and she restrained herself from touching him, but then didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. “Does it hurt?” she asked finally.

 

Souji shrugged. “It’s fine.”

 

“I didn’t ask if it was fine,” she replied immediately. “I asked if it hurt.”

 

He chuckled at the sight of her, face stern and eyes hard, alive with a spark of anger, watching his every move with more interest than he could ever remember seeing in either of his parents, or even both of them combined. He regretted his humour when the action pulled his face in different directions. “Fair enough. Yes, it hurts, but not as much as last night.”

 

“Why did you get in a fight in the first place?”

 

Souji’s face froze in place. He felt his face settle coldly and his eyes ice over. And it had nothing to do with the gel pack. “Exceptional circumstances.”

 

Izumi waited for something more. Nothing was forthcoming except Souji giving her a calmly raised eyebrow that said _“anything else?”_ like he’d shouted it. Until then, she’d never realized how expressive her son could be without actually saying anything. Or rather, that his expressions were in what he _wasn’t_ saying as much as what he was. Had she not been struck still by the unusual sight of Souji, usually so placid and calm that missing him in a room was second nature, with bruises marring his face, she might have thought on that point more.

 

“What sort of exceptional circumstances?” she pressed when it became clear he wasn’t offering more information. “You’ve never been in fights before.”

 

“A friend of mine was being harassed by some drunks,” he replied, expression and tone not changing in the least. “I wasn’t in a position to leave unharmed, and wouldn’t have ditched her even if I were.”

 

“That’s what we have police for,” she replied sharply, disappointment edging her voice. “You should have called them. And what were you doing out last night anyway?”

 

“I lost my phone.”

 

She looked at him closer to tell if he was lying. What little of him she could read told her he wasn’t. “You lost it?”

 

“Well, I don’t have it with me now. I have some calls to make later on today, maybe someone found it.”

 

Izumi’s cell began to ring. She reached for it reflexively, then stopped herself to look at Souji. “What aren’t you telling me?”

 

Then the house phone began to ring as well. Souji pointed toward the door. “You’re going to be late, Mother. I’m not going anywhere today. I’ll be fine.” The words weren’t said in an apologetic or reassuring tone, but rather with an enduring resignation as though he were reading from a grocery list.

 

“You’re treating this like it’s nothing,” she noted sharply, growing from a stern but inquisitive look to a full glare, perhaps one of the first he’d had directed at him in years.

 

It still wasn’t enough to break his cold aplomb. “Because it isn’t. There are more important things going on in this house than what I do, Mother, and I know that very well. You should be going. Your appointments aren’t going to wait.” When she eased her stance back but didn’t turn to leave, he reassured her with “I’ll be fine.”

 

Duty called, or rather duty to one’s corporate masters did, and she collected her effects and made her way to the door slowly, taking one last look at her son. He shooed her out the door. “Don’t start worrying about me, Mother.” He turned back to his thawing gel pack and sat on the couch again. Before the door could close, he let his facade drop and muttered coldly, “you don’t have the practice; you’d probably get it wrong.”

 

He’d never know if she heard him or not as she left for work, considerably less sure of herself and her son than she’d been just a few minutes before.

 

\--

 

Souji’s day improved from there in that, by the time he’d left for school the next morning, his cell phone was back in his possession, along with his wallet and the hat he’d lost at the party. Inoue had sent his assistant over with the effects. What Souji wasn’t expecting when he opened the door was to be handed the largest basket of fruits and nuts he’d ever seen, along with an accompanying basket, smaller in size and larger in cost and value, of high-end coffee packages from brands he’d never be able to afford on his own. When he insisted it was too much, the assistant pointed at the very clear tag on both baskets that read _“Not for Return or Resale”_ , and disappeared before Souji could stop him. “It’s the least I can do,” Inoue said over the phone as Souji walked to school that day. “You were invaluable. Rise gave me the details yesterday, and we’ve taken some steps to keep things under wraps, where both of you are concerned. So you don’t need to worry about any phone calls  from magazine producers this time.”

 

Nice and vague. Souji hadn’t heard anything about the party on the news, but, for fear of jinxing his presence there and seeing his face on TV again, he hadn’t been looking very hard. It was good to hear there was a tighter lid on matters this time, especially if it meant he didn’t need to go through a repeat performance of last time. “Did the photographer at least come through?”

 

“After Rise told me some things about the evening that certain parties want kept quiet, he became very accommodating.”

 

“Well there’s that much, at least.”

 

“Again, I’m sorry you were put in that position. Things shouldn’t have gone sideways like that.”

 

Souji shrugged, entering the school courtyard and ignoring the stares from some of his classmates. “No worries. What happened in the park was long overdue, and was more my fault than anything. And none of us saw the stuff someone brought in the first place, so there was no avoiding it. And things worked out alright, no?”

 

“That they did, and I appreciate it, Souji-kun. Take care.”

 

“I will.”

 

He snapped his phone shut and dropped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He hadn’t even made it to the front doors and people were already whispering around him, and he had to stop himself from turning no less than four times when one student or other started pointing at him to the others. And he didn’t need to hear what they were saying; despite the freezing and relaxation of the day before, he was still battered and bruised, and it showed. He didn’t let it slow him down, but it was clear that there’d be more tall tales for the mill in no time at all.

 

Perhaps there was someone on campus who dealt in rumours – Souji was sure he was due some royalties for all the gossip he kicked up.

 

He stopped at his locker, changed his shoes, and headed up to class when he saw Yuhara and his flunkies, some of whom weren’t at the park that night, chatting and laughing in the hall. The crowd around them might have been out of place if there weren’t already basketball fans that followed them religiously, but the chatter was restrained this time. And Souji stopped when he came into view so the dark, cruel little bastard in his heart could enjoy his handiwork. And the sight brought a cold upturn to his lips.

 

Of the six Souji recognized, half of them were sporting bruises and scrapes of various colours and sizes. One was breathing lightly and looked like he was working hard not to straighten up too much, while the other had a distinct line of unmarked skin running between two black-blue bruises, evidently from where Souji had introduced him to the pavement. Both looked at the exchange student, at the eye of the hurricane he inspired just by standing there, and clammed up immediately. Yuhara, with his knuckles notably black and some bruises smattered across his face, glared fiercely at Souji, but kept his mouth shut. The loudest of the group, a short student Souji had never been introduced to, stared at him with a cocky smile.

 

“Well lookit you! How’s the face, pretty boy?” Yuhara and his other flunkies didn’t say anything to stop the little loudmouth, but their eyes avoided Souji’s stare. Except Yuhara himself. His was a cold stare filled with a mix of apprehension, anger, and a touch of curiosity. All of it churning and twisting into a combination that made Souji’s eyebrow raise a fraction of a centimetre.

 

“Not bad actually. Kind of refreshing. I should really do it more often,” Souji called back.

 

“Yeah, you and your thugs can bring it on any time. You won’t get the drop on us again.”

 

Thugs? Get the drop? Souji glanced at the others, some of whom were looking away from their teammate while some passersby in the hallway looked at the exchange speculatively. Then it clicked – bad enough they were wearing their defeat where everyone could see it, but no way they’d admit to losing to one person. “Ahh. I see. Because of course I’d need a gang behind me to do anything substantial, right?”

 

“Of course. Not like the big guy here.” The loudmouth pointed behind him to the star of the little group.

 

The bell rang before anyone could reply, and Souji moved past them toward his classroom as calmly as if he were walking through the park, ignoring the short student’s taunts until he reached the door and turned back to them. “Yuhara.”

 

Their group stopped and turned to look at him. “What?”

 

“There’s no shame in defeat, especially at the hands of someone better than you,” Souji told him coldly, a slow smile crossing his lips. “But you really should look at it as a learning experience. Let me know when you’re up for a rematch; you can bring more friends along, for all the good they’ll do you.”

 

“The hell’re you saying, pretty boy?” their spokesman barked.

 

“Shut up,” Yuhara growled darkly. “This isn’t over, Seta.” Then he turned and left the hall, his groupies in tow.

 

Souji chuckled at the stares they got and turned to the class to take his seat. Perhaps there were silver linings to dark clouds. No matter what the weather was like.

 

 

There was a strange mindset that came with mental exhaustion. After the second night without rest, he went beyond fatigue into a state of dead, disconnected awareness. His eyes looked like they had been grilled in grease, but he couldn’t feel them burn. His limbs still responded well enough, but he felt no smooth flow from one movement to the next. He was conscious of his surroundings and could respond easily enough to the people and situations around him, but there was no feeling, no spark to anything he did. It wasn’t that Souji was unfamiliar with the feeling; he’d been a nervous wreck when Nanako had been abducted, a mix of wild, twitchy energy and weariness that sank into his marrow like cement. No, instead he was unused to feeling it when someone’s life wasn’t on the line. Back in Inaba there was a clear and definable limit to how long he had to endure it. He could tough it out because he had a goal, a finish line to cross so he could get back to sleep. Now the exhaustion was as unrelenting as the weather.

 

It was three days after the fight in the park, and the only time the rain had let up was when it had just stayed cloudy once, a murky, oily kind of overcast that pressure cooked Kofu and made the air unseasonably warm and humid enough to drink. He’d been getting enough hours of sleep, and had even cut into his usual time reserved for homework and chatting with Yukiko to get more rest. But the sleep wasn’t doing him any good. If he wasn’t running and tripping from one nightmare into the next, he was floating in a grey, static haze that only left him feeling slightly less exhausted than the night before. It was building on him, teetering him back and forth from almost falling asleep and crystal clarity that felt completely detached from his own body.

 

And it was the latter of the two feelings that saw him in homeroom during lunch, leaning against the wall and pointedly not looking out the window while Megumi and Yoshiro chatted quietly nearby. It was that exhausted clarity that raised his eyes to the door to see Ashida, the girl a year behind him who’d suffered his blunt rejection just weeks before, at the door with laden arms before waving her over. She nodded, shy but excited if the quiver of irrepressible energy running through her was any indication, and skipped through the groups of students to sit in the desk behind him. Megumi and Yoshiro cut their conversation short to look over curiously. There were patches of inquisitive silence around the class, and Souji didn’t even hear the murmurs begin around them; he was dead on his feet, and Ashida’s enthusiasm was making him tired just by proximity.

 

“Thanks again, Senpai,” she gushed, narrow features and large eyes happy behind her bangs. Souji nodded before cracking his neck with a sharp wrench and a grunt.

 

Ashida began unfolding the package she’d been carrying, setting several velvet sacks down on the desk surface and pulling out a handbook so new that the pages and plastic of the cover still smelled sharp. Yoshiro looked over with a cocked eyebrow. “What’s this?”

 

“Ashida asked me for help on a pet project,” Souji explained. “It’s on a subject I know a few things about.”

 

Megumi nodded to Ashida, who smiled and nodded back respectfully before pulling the objects out of the velvet bags. Yoshiro caught a look at the book’s cover, and pulled back with several surprised blinks before looking at the pale transfer student. “You’re serious?”

 

Ashida placed the small bags in a neat pile off to the side and showed the others what they’d contained: tarot cards.

 

“It was her idea,” Souji replied.

 

“Senpai’s lucky,” Ashida gushed before checking her book for the table of contents. “So he’s the best person to try these on.”

 

“So you say,” Souji answered around a yawn. “I’m still not sure where that idea came from, though.”

 

“Your coin,” she said immediately, pointing at the circle of metal, blade scar facing up, that was sitting on Souji’s desk instead of being spun through his fingers. “Everyone knows that a coin that saves its holder’s life is good luck.”

 

Souji cocked an eyebrow. “Where’d you get that idea?”

 

Ashida looked up at him immediately, a sharp shine to her stare. “There was a commander during the Meiji Revolution who was shot with a gun, and survived because there was a coin in the way. He was enormously lucky at dice rolls and mahjong every day after that, because he held on to that coin.”

 

Souji blinked sceptically, not asking how someone could flip a coin that had been shot with a rifle round or bringing up that the commander might’ve been a sore loser and his men threw the games for favour. His exhaustion kept his usual stoic mask from forming, however, because Ashida read his face in a second and pulled herself up in the chair and continued. “It’s true! And you can even tell someone’s personality by knowing what their blood type is. What they’re like on a good day or a bad one, and there’s all sorts of literature about it. C’mon Senpai, what’s your blood type?”

 

“I think this is getting away from the reason you’re here, Ashida-chan,” Megumi responded calmly, smirking at the grateful look Souji sent her.

 

“Ahh, you’re right Megumi-san. What do you think Senpai, should we try the different spreads first?”

 

Souji pointed toward the cards. “Let’s just start with the basics. There’s a lot to know about the interpretations, right?”

 

“Where did you learn about tarot cards?” Yoshiro asked, interest flickering in his eyes as he looked at the decks.

 

“Before I moved here, I met some people who spent a lot of their time going over them,” Souji replied blandly, not about to mention the mismatched pair by name. “They taught me a few things.”

 

Ashida began shuffling the decks separately, first the major arcana, then the minor, then shuffling them together under Souji’s approving nod. “Shall we get started?”

 

Souji straightened in his chair and leaned forward, watching the deck closely. “Ready when you are.”

 

“Okay then. I want to know what Seta-senpai is like,” she said towards the cards before pushing the deck toward him expectantly. “Left hand, please.”

 

“So we’re clear, I’m expecting a nine of swords,” Souji told her before drawing the card and flipping it over. No surprise; that very card stared back at him, in the upright position, like it was mocking him. Megumi and Yoshiro looked startled, and Ashida let out a gleeful squeal before diving for her book of interpretations. Souji just gave a disgusted sigh. “That figures.”

 

“Nine of swords...” Ashida muttered, flipping through the pages.

 

“It indicates insomnia and too many sleepless nights,” Souji supplied before placing the card on the desk.

 

Ashida looked surprised, then read the page she’d flipped to again. “Wow. You’re dead on, Senpai. I mean, the book says a few other things too, but that’s right.”

 

“Know a thing or two, huh?” Megumi asked with an arched eyebrow, now intrigued and leaning forward. Souji just shrugged.

 

Ashida held the deck out to him again. “Okay, next card. I want to know more about Senpai.”

 

“You and half the city,” Souji muttered before drawing the next card and flipping it over. He chuckled when he saw the _XVIII_ on the bottom and showed it to the others. The Moon. “Appropriate, I suppose.”

 

Ashida started flipping through the pages again, and Yoshiro leaned forward to see the card. “So what do they mean?” he asked.

 

“A lot of things,” Souji answered, turning the card through his fingers, careful not to bend it too much. “Tarot cards represent a journey through life, the struggles people face, and indicators of what they might be going through at the time. The interpretations are general though, so they have a lot of room for acceptable error.”

 

Megumi caught the tone in his voice, flatter than before, and quirked her head to the side. “You don’t believe in them?”

 

Souji yawned, feeling his jaw creak. “I don’t believe in fate or destiny. People can act in different ways in any situation, but I don’t think that cards are going to determine what they’ll do one way or the other.”

 

Megumi cut Ashida off, who was clearly about to refute the fact despite how tired Souji was. “I guess that makes sense. I don’t know if I agree with you, but I can see why you think that way.”

 

“Here it is,” Ashida said finally, holding the book out for the others to see. “Moon, major arcana. Um, inspiration and intuition, mystery, genius and... um, madness.” She looked around hesitantly, unsure how the others would respond.

 

Souji kept going without batting an eye. “It’s the card of magic, the esoteric, and the psychological, for better or worse. It indicates the ephemeral, and says that something is not what it seems.”

 

The ladies looked a touch flabbergasted at his calm response, particularly that he didn’t look offended at the comment on madness. Yoshiro shook his head and looked at the card’s picture when Souji showed it to him. “I don’t get it. Do you know those interpretations by heart? Or is there something on here that says all that?”

 

Souji pointed at the design. “It’s all there, but it’s not obvious. The two dogs represent the familiar and the unknown, that something safe in the day becomes something dangerous by night.”

 

“You mean like a werewolf?” Yoshiro asked. “You mentioned magic before.”

 

Souji frowned pensively, perhaps the first spark of inspired thought in days, but shook his head. “It’s not talking about real magic, but rather the perception of the supernatural or unusual. You can’t see the dog well in the moonlight, so you might think it’s a wolf, and your imagination makes it more threatening than it really is. The dog is still a dog, and a forest, for instance, is still a forest, but at night things feel different, foreign, and so what is safe becomes mysterious, maybe dangerous.”

 

“Like kids,” Megumi mentioned. “They believe that there’re monsters in the closet, no matter how often they look in that closet in the daytime and see that it’s empty.”

 

“That’s a very good example,” Souji replied with a half-smile. Then he checked the clock before turning to Ashida. “But lunch is winding down, so let’s get this moving again.”

 

“Uh, right!” Ashida chirped, holding out the deck.

 

Temperance. “Well, that’s no surprise,” Yoshiro commented when he heard the interpretation. Alchemy, balance. All things in moderation.

 

Five of chalices. “Interesting,” was all Souji said after Ashida read from the book. Deep emotions, visions, and illusions.

 

Four of swords. “Of course,” Megumi chuckled. Discussion and debates, a calculating mind, problem solving. Sharp ideas that rested on a sharp tongue.

 

The lunch bell was a few minutes from going off when the last card was drawn, and their little pocket of the room went silent. _XIII_. Death.

 

“Sooo... does that mean you’re gonna die?” Yoshiro asked.

 

“The cards are more metaphorical than literal,” Souji replied, still holding the card in his fingers. “Physical death is only one interpretation for the card.”

 

“I don’t know,” Megumi murmured. “Some of those cards seemed to peg you pretty close, Souji-san.”

 

Souji took the deck from Ashida and began reshuffling the cards, much faster and more confidently than she had, and snapped cards down in a circular spread, crisscrossing them in some positions, leaving them solitary in others. The centre card though, the only one he flipped, was the same. Death in the upright position. “Odd,” he muttered. “The card suggests the death of something, but not necessarily in someone dying. More like an end or completion, like getting out of a bad relationship, losing a good job, whatever, but that’s the best translation of the card.”

 

“But that still means your life could end,” Ashida pointed out, pale from the interpretation. The lunch bell went, and she collected her cards and book, bowed to the three in thanks for the trial run, and left the room without another word, Megumi close behind.

 

“Do you always have that kind of luck with tarot cards?” Yoshiro asked as classes were about to resume.

 

Souji shrugged. “I’m not sure. Like I said, I don’t take them very seriously.” Any further conversation was cut off by the teacher’s arrival. Souji could tell Yoshiro was bothered, or at least unsettled, by the cards, but he didn’t let himself think about it. He was no stranger to them, certainly, and Inaba had taught him better than to tempt fate, but he hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t think they determined his actions. He’d made his choices, and he’d live with them. There was nothing else in the equation.

 

\--

 

Classes went by quickly after their lunchtime gathering. Souji coasted along on autopilot, answering questions moments before forgetting what the class was about. Before he knew it, he was out of the crowded classroom and walking through the polished halls. He greeted Yoshiro and Megumi, who tagged along beside him, already chatting between themselves. Souji stifled a yawn and fished his shoes from his locker. He needed sleep. And to talk to Yukiko. She always helped make things better. Yeah, that’s what he’d-

 

“Hey.”

 

Souji looked over to Yoshiro, who had an unusually sober look on his face. At his side, Megumi looked both pensive and distant. She did that a lot, Souji realized for what felt like the first time. He admired her guise, her assumed aloofness, and he had to wonder if that was how he seemed to those around him. “What’s up?” Souji asked finally.

 

“You free after school?”

 

Souji shrugged. “I suppose. What’s up?”

 

“I’m at a loose end. No practice today, so I figured we could hang out.” Yoshiro nodded to the nearby windows, showing the grey skies and steady rain.

 

Souji paused in grabbing his book bag, looking at the basketball captain with as much scrutiny as he could muster. Admittedly, that wasn’t very much. Megumi had a face like a slate statue, but Yoshiro was twitching, shifting his weight from one side to the other. “That’s fine by me,” Souji replied with an inquisitive look. “But what’s the occasion?”

 

“It’s stupid,” Yoshiro admitted. “But I remember what Ashida said earlier.”

 

“Oh come on,” Souji sighed in exasperation. “Tarot cards and fortune telling are wild guesses and blind luck. Nothing more.”

 

“I know, but I just have a bad feeling, okay?”

 

Souji shook his head. He was too tired to argue the point. “Do as you like. I won’t stop you.”

 

“Thanks,” Yoshiro replied, looking a little less tense. “C’mon, let’s get some ramen. Best choice on a wet day.”

 

“Lead the way,” was all Souji said.

 

Only they didn’t make it to the road, or even out from under the roof of the front doors, when Rise made her appearance. She was dressed simply, in her capris and pull-over, sans makeup and leaning against the pillar under her umbrella. “Hey Senpai,” she murmured. Souji couldn’t tell if it was the rain or the night at the park, but she was subdued, more reserved than usual. Souji moved next to her, ignoring his friends for the moment.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked. So far as he could tell, she looked fine. But the wan little smile he got in response kept him on his toes.

 

Instead of an empty platitude, she told him “I will be,” and left it at that. Then she pulled up a much brighter smile and nodded to Yoshiro and Megumi. “I was in the area, thought you might want some company.”

 

“Well we were about to hit up a ramen shop,” Yoshiro replied, in a surprising display of control considering his first reaction to Rise’s appearance at the fairgrounds.

 

Rise brightened up at that, even more than she already had, and some of the tension left her. “Really? I’ve been craving ramen the last few days. C’mon Senpai, let’s go!”

 

And, just like that, the grim mood broke and the foursome made their way off campus and down the road toward a ramen shop Yoshiro and Megumi assured them was to die for. The clouds darkened and the rain came down harder, so they kept together and walked faster. The girls chatted immediately, no barriers or awkwardness between them, and Souji talked idly with Yoshiro about school. “I saw Yuhara-kun,” Yoshiro told him. “Seems like someone did a number on him.”

 

“I saw him in the hall this morning,” was all Souji said, his tone even and calm.

 

“And you look like you had a scrap recently too.”

 

“So I hear. Do I look that bad?”

 

Yoshiro stopped and looked over his friend’s face closely, inch by inch. “No, not really. Not compared to some of those guys, anyway. Still, what happened?”

 

“What makes you think it was me?”

 

Yoshiro snorted and shook his head. “C’mon Souji-san. He’s been getting under your skin since you moved here, and hasn’t shut up about you and Risette since the field trip. Suddenly a bunch of the guys who openly dislike you clam up about her and show up black and blue all over, and you haven’t said a word about it. Give me some credit.”

 

Souji’s calm mask broke and he chuckled. He hadn’t felt any pain until Yoshiro mentioned it, but even so, it had largely dulled until he could ignore it. “Fair enough. They stopped Rise and me the other night while I was walking her home. Things went downhill from there.” He made sure to say the words quietly enough that the ladies, a few steps ahead of them, couldn’t hear.

 

“They actually went after her?” Yoshiro asked sharply, eyes snapping and angry.

 

“They were drunk and stupid. Nothing happened outside the fight.”

 

“That’s no excuse. I should talk to the authorities about it.”

 

“Don’t,” Souji replied calmly but firmly. “What’s done is done. Yuhara and his crew’ll just deny it, making it your word against theirs. Then you’re going to have a fractured team for your games. And Rise and her manager have already worked to keep the matter under wraps. Pulling her into the spotlight is the last thing they want. Regardless of what they might have tried, they didn’t succeed.”

 

“This time. What if they try again? Or bring more people with them?”

 

“Then I’ll deal with them as it happens.”

 

Yoshiro stopped and looked at Souji closely, for a few long moments, before shaking his head with an exasperated snort. “You really would, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“All that for a friend. You really are one of a kind, you know that?”

 

Souji shrugged, but failed to stop the heat from climbing his neck. Keeping to the background in Kofu had become such a habit that being given any credit was flattering and embarrassing. “It’s what I do for my friends.”

 

“Glad to hear it.”

 

The group continued along the street, now two blocks from the ramen shop. They’d just crossed the intersection when their conversations were cut off by the tortured squealing of tires and brakes, the heavy impact of metal crunching and glass breaking.

 

They all looked up, shocked to see a vehicle collision happen right behind them. Slick roads or distracted drivers, perhaps. Rise and Megumi jerked back, hands to their chests in surprise, and Yoshiro stepped between the noise and them without pause.

 

Souji stared at the cars, the sound reverberating in his mind, echoing from nights before and every nightmare since. No, he told himself. No, this wasn’t a nightmare. This was real, and all he had to do was walk away. He heard another vehicle approaching and turned away from the sound.

 

Then he saw her. Just entering the intersection’s crosswalk, pink umbrella, dressed in white and pink under a yellow slicker. Her back was turned to him, but he heard her voice. _“Big Bro”_ spun around his head in an instant, driving all his self-assurances mercilessly into the ground.

 

And everything stopped. He saw Nanako, felt his heartbeat slow, and heard the approaching vehicle. The rain, the static, the delivery truck was getting closer. Revving up. Not stopping, going right for her.

 

He bolted. He didn’t know where his umbrella wound up, where his backpack landed. He didn’t feel the cool metal or rain water as he slid across the edge of a car’s trunk, or the rapid hammering of his feet on the pavement as he ran into traffic. All he saw has her. All he heard was the approaching truck. And all he needed was to get there. Faster, faster. He had to make it this time. She turned to look at him, puzzled at his approach. Then fear when she saw the vehicle. She froze in place, opened her mouth, but was too terrified to scream.

 

He dropped his weight, caught her in his right arm, and tumbled to the pavement. He pulled her close as he hit the ground, rolling out of the way. Once, jarring his bruised ribs. Twice, stinging his back. And up to his knees, putting himself between her and the truck just as the blaring horn ran over them both-

 

And the truck stopped with a crash. Caught between a nearby car and a concrete bench. The engine died in a protesting gurgle, blowing an engine belt and steaming spitefully in the rain. The motor tried to run, but the wheels wouldn’t move. It was done.

 

“Uh... um, sir?”

 

Souji released the death grip he had on her, pulling back and looking down. “Are you okay?”

 

The world imploded. Jagged edges of reality crashed around him. It wasn’t Nanako, and that realization set him back on his heels. Her umbrella, on its side and miraculously untouched by the collision, was light blue with white sparrows and koi across the surface. The same pattern as her rain slicker. No pink. When she looked up at him, he saw green eyes and black hair, not brown. And a green and white striped shirt and skirt underneath the rain coat.

 

He turned and staggered back, hand to his head as he tried to think over the noise in his head. He saw the truck. Only it wasn’t a truck, but an SUV. And the driver was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, not a green uniform, and reeked of booze when he staggered past, not even noticing the mayhem around him.

 

She wasn’t there. She’d never been there. Souji shook his head and tried to keep the panic down. He was losing it. Going crazy.

 

“Akane!”

 

“Mommy!”

 

Souji grabbed what remnants of his self-control he could find in the maelstrom of adrenaline and turned as much as he dared. A tall, slender woman, only a few years older than he was himself, clutched the girl to her, on the edge of tears as she rocked her back and forth. Whatever the girl was saying was muffled by her mother’s body, but Souji could guess at the words. And then a man in a suit and overcoat with salt and pepper hair pushed through the crowd and crouched to pull them both into a tight embrace. A family. And a happy one, by the look of it. He shook his head, turned on the fragile glass and tattered ribbons that was his psyche at the moment, and began to move away from them. The accidents had stopped traffic and it was safe enough to cross the road. He marveled at how far he’d run in such a short time. Or had it been short? Either way, it surprised him that he hadn’t been hit.

 

“Wait! You, sir!”

 

Souji wouldn’t have stopped if the voice hadn’t sounded like it was approaching him. Everything felt brittle at the moment. But he pulled himself together and turned shakily, meeting the dark eyes of the girl’s father. “Yes?”

 

The man stepped up to Souji, uncomfortably close, and firmly grabbed his hand in a bone-crushing grip. “Thank you. I don’t know you, but thank you for what you just did.”

 

Souji’s reply was automatic, but sounded like it belonged to someone else. “It was nothing.”

 

The man nearly looked offended. “Of course it was! You saved my daughter! You. No one else; I didn’t even see that idiot. And you threw yourself into traffic for her. Do you know me or my wife?”

 

“I... no.”

 

“Then I owe you all the more. Name your price, and I will give it.”

 

The world was jerking and twisting around him, and it was all Souji could do to keep his balance. “No, I’m... sorry for interfering- no, I mean I’m sorry, I thought...”

 

_Snap out of it!_ Souji berated himself. _Cry in the corner later. At least get out of the street!_

 

The man was picking up the odd vibes if his speculative and concerned expression was any indication. “Are you alright? Do you need an ambulance?”

 

Couldn’t even bluff a stranger. What a day. Souji took a few fortifying breaths, and the world stopped moving. A few more, and he gave a calm smile, as calm as he could manage, to the man. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not making much sense. What I mean is that I’m glad I could help.”

 

“There’s still the matter of price.”

 

Souji shook his head. “I didn’t do it for a reward, so you don’t owe me anything.”

 

“Unacceptable. I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if this debt were left unpaid.”

 

Souji didn’t know what to say in the face of the man’s determination, but cocked his ear when he heard approaching sirens. “We can talk about it later,” he replied. “Right now the emergency crews are going to be busy.”

 

The man looked at Souji sharply, and finally nodded. “I will repay you for this – my family is everything to me, and no price is too high for their safety.”

 

Souji nodded and began to move through the halted traffic, able to escape when a member of the crowd, claiming she had first aid experience, took the girl aside and called to the father. Two accidents on top of each other, same time and place. What were the odds. Though Ashida had said he was lucky.

 

 Souji made his way through the wrecked cars and wiped the sweat and rain from his brow, feeling his balance shift and legs sway underneath him. He adjusted his balance and kept going; probably recovering from the sudden sprint. And his head swam a bit. From the adrenaline, no doubt. He’d be fine. But he didn’t notice his hands starting to shake and tingle.

 

Yoshiro and Rise waved him over, offering him his discarded umbrella and tripping over each other to say how crazy he was and how amazing he had been to risk running into traffic to save the girl. But then they both stopped when they saw his hands, and Souji looked down at them, puzzled. Or he should be puzzled, but everything felt... far away.

 

“Senpai?” Rise asked. Yoshiro was looking over him with a sharp stare and what looked like fear edging his eyes. He was saying something, but-

 

The pain hit.

 

It was sudden, caught Souji by surprise, a sharp blade sinking into his chest. Then twisting. Slowly. Ever so slowly. And with it came the fear.

 

His breath froze. The sirens went quiet, then deafeningly loud. The world turned dark at the edges, his vision tunnelled, and all he could see was Rise and Yoshiro. They were shouting at him, and all he heard was his racing heart and hammering lungs. His entire body flushed in a rush, hot even through the cold. He couldn’t feel the rain. He couldn’t breathe, then breathed far too fast.  He felt his knees hit the ground, but not his non-stop trembling.

 

His racing heart only made the pain worse. Stabbing, tightening, twisting, and spreading. Beating so fast it was like hummingbirds in his ears. Only pain. Only the fear. And his own tumbling thoughts.

 

What had he done?

 

Where was he?

 

_What’s happening!?_

_GET AWAY!_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

When it rains, it pours. Or so they said. Toyama Yoshiro, who up to that moment had thought the rain was the worst part of the day, wanted to know who ‘they’ were. Just so he could beat the hell out of them.

 

He was soaked the moment he dropped his umbrella, and couldn’t be bothered to care. What he did care about was that Souji was clutching at his chest and trying to scramble away from him at the same time. Yoshiro had never seen anyone his age look so frightened and so angry at the same time.

 

“Senpai?” Rise whispered next to him, hand to her mouth. “What’s wrong?!”

 

He should have felt worried. Should have freaked out or been at as much of a loss as Rise. But no. He felt calm, focused, and couldn’t see the world around them. His world narrowed familiarly. Yes, he could do this. This he knew. “Rise,” he warned, “stay away from him. Give him space.” He didn’t wonder whose voice that was, so assured and mature. He knew it was his, no matter how alien it still sounded. Instead he watched his friend break down right in front of them. And felt the adrenaline hit his bloodstream.

 

Souji’s near-exhaustible supply of control had abandoned him. One hand was over his heart, shaking like Jell-O in an earthquake, and the other was held up between him and them defensively. His breathing was rapid, far too rapid to be healthy. And, even on his knees, he kept trying to get away from them. Pushing against the wall running along the sidewalk.

 

Yoshiro dropped into a squat, not getting any closer, and spoke in as comforting a voice as he could. “Souji, it’s alright. It’s me. You recognize me?”

 

He didn’t answer. Just kept shuffling back and shivering violently.

 

“How’re you feeling?” Yoshiro continued, keeping his voice as calm as possible. Like he would with a cornered dog. “You’re clutching your chest. What’s wrong?”

 

“I-it... hurts,” Souji choked out. “Feels like I’m- Am I dying? Having a heart attack?!”

 

That wasn’t helping. Yoshiro slid forward a little. “No, you’re not having a heart attack.”

 

“Chest hurts. Everything’s moving, can’t see straight. Where are you?”

 

Whether Souji couldn’t actually see or was just panicked, it confirmed Yoshiro’s suspicions. And they weren’t pleasant. “I’m right here. I’m coming a little closer, okay?”

 

Any hint of vulnerability died swiftly under the aggressive snarl that snapped across Souji’s face. He was still shaking, but crouched his legs under him. Like a cat about to spring. Yoshiro leaned back, wary of the fury he saw. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay here. Just keep talking to me.” Souji didn’t say anything. He nearly lost his balance when he reached to the side, his hip, over his shoulder. Then reached for whatever it was again. And again. Yoshiro couldn’t help the feeling that he was looking for a weapon. Over and over, he muttered ‘Get away’, sometimes switching languages to what Yoshiro assumed was Korean or Chinese. And some English.

 

Then, as fast as he found his temper, he doubled over in pain. Gasping and coughing and hacking. His entire body shook, faster and harder. The hand that moved around the most reached out. Imploring. Asking for help. Yoshiro stayed back for a moment, then decided to roll the dice. He slowly moved forward, made sure Souji wouldn’t panic (more than he already was), and took the outstretched hand. Cold, bony fingers and wet leather clamped onto his hand like a steel trap.

 

He squeezed Souji’s hand back, just as hard as he was being squeezed. And felt his bones creak under the pressure. But he didn’t flinch. Souji held onto him like a pole in a flash flood, and wasn’t letting go. “You’re alright,” Yoshiro continued calmly, moving closer and resting his other hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re fine. You’re not going to die.”

 

“Chest feels-“ Gasp. “Hurts-“

 

“I know,” Yoshiro responded, still placid and calm. “I know it feels bad. But you’re going to be fine.”

 

“I’m- I’ll...” He slowed down a little, then started looking around slowly. “I’m... If I’m fine, what about Nanako? Where is she? Is she alright?”

 

“Nanako?” Megumi asked, looking to Rise, then back to Souji. “No, that wasn’t the girl’s name.”

 

“Where’s Nanako?” Souji demanded. “Is she safe?”

 

Rise was shivering under her umbrella, and it didn’t seem to have to do with the cold. But she spoke anyway, as firmly as she could. “She’s fine, Senpai. Nanako-chan’s fine. You saved her.”

 

“She’s-“ It sunk in, and he calmed down a little. “She’s alright?”

 

“Yes, Senpai,” Rise whispered. “She’s okay now.”

 

As though that were the only thing keeping him upright, he slumped back against the wall, rain streaking down his face like tears as he looked up wistfully. “That... that’s good.”

 

He didn’t know how long they were there, separated from the world. Minutes or hours, it stretched out forever. Megumi could handle these situations. They weren’t new. But Yoshiro was impressed by the steel in Rise’s spine. Not that he thought she was weak or a ditzy airhead, but she stood her ground in the face of everything that had happened without hesitating. And he knew it personally: that was rare.

 

Their little pocket of privacy was interrupted by the arrival of a man in an emergency services uniform, covered in pockets and pouches and a red and white rain slicker. He turned to each of them and bowed swiftly in greeting. “Hello. I’m Kato Shogo, Kofu General Hospital. Is he alright?” The EMT asked, bending down and opening his trauma kit.

 

“He may have a few bruises from hitting the pavement earlier,” Yoshiro reported calmly. Finally; help had arrived. “And he’s suffering an acute panic attack. He said his chest hurts, and he’s been breathing hard and shaking the entire time. He hasn’t tried to stand up yet.”

 

Kato-san looked impressed while he glanced through his kit. “You sound like you have experience with panic attacks.”

 

Images flashed before Yoshiro’s eyes before he could stop them. Someone else in the same state. More intense than Souji, and less heroic. Larger. Stronger. Booze and shattered glass. Rocks and broken bones and no blood left. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Something like that.”

 

“Well it’s a good thing you were here,” Kato-san continued, holding two fingers under Souji’s chin, looking for a pulse. “It’s rare to see anyone with a level head in these situations. Especially someone so young. Does he have any ID?”

 

Yoshiro blinked at the question. He hadn’t thought of that. Rise had, however, and handed Kato a set of plastic cards, Souji’s worn but well-made wallet in her hands.

 

Kato glanced at the insurance card before passing it off to another EMT in passing. He checked his watch, timing Souji’s heart rate, and frowned after a minute. “Seta-kun, my name is Kato Shogo. I’m an EMT, and I’m here to help you. Can you tell me what happened?”

 

Souji stared between Kato and Yoshiro, past them and the sidewalk and road beyond. Every now and again he’d mutter something under his breath, something about Nanako, whoever that was, but never spoke up when Kato asked him to repeat himself.

 

Kato turned to Yoshiro, eyes troubled. “You said he hit the pavement before. What happened? Witnesses of the crash said he dove into traffic to save a little girl’s life.”

 

“That’s pretty much what happened,” Yoshiro replied. “I didn’t see her until he was already running, and that van came pretty close to running them both over before it stopped. He came back to the sidewalk after that, and then he snapped.”

 

“Meaning that was the cause of this,” Kato mused to himself. “Which do you think it was? The girl or the vehicle?”

 

“I don’t know,” Yoshiro admitted, looking to Rise and Megumi questioningly.

 

“It would have been both, I think,” Rise told them quietly. “Senpai has... bad memories of something like that happening before.”

 

“A girl and a van together? Could you clarify?” Kato inquired, taking notes on a waterproof handheld.

 

The starlet, huddled under her umbrella, shook her head. “It’s not my place to say.”

 

It might have been that he caught on to their conversation, or perhaps the terror had finally run its course enough for him to regain some control. Either way, Souji began taking deeper breaths and wiped at his face. Silver eyes, bloodshot from the pressure and exertion of the episode, sharpened a little and looked to Kato questioningly. The EMT took that as his cue. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

 

Souji cleared his throat a few times and finally croaked “Y.. yes. I can hear you.”

 

“Then you know your name and birthday, right?”

 

“I... I’m Seta Souji... and...”

 

“How old are you, Seta-kun?”

 

“I’m... eighteen. As of April.”

 

Kato nodded and took a few more notes. “Can you walk?”

 

Souji shuffled his feet, then bent his legs and started pushing himself up. Not waiting to see the result, Yoshiro pulled Souji’s arm over his shoulder and stabilized him, planting his feet firmly against the pavement and helping him up. Souji glanced over, uncomprehending for a moment, then looked back to the EMT. “It seems so.”

 

“Good. We have to take care of some of the other patients, and your friend seems to have a handle on things.” Kato looked to Yoshiro with a sober nod. “Let us know the second something happens, but try to let him get it out of his system. We’ll be nearby if you need us.”

 

Yoshiro nodded before turning towards the nearby park, going slowly for his friend’s sake and pushing past the onlookers. Megumi and Rise followed, backpacks and book bags and umbrellas in hand. But Yoshiro didn’t notice them. What was blaring in his head, over and over, was Souji’s age and he way he said it.

 

What the hell happened to make a healthy, stable teenager break down and suffer a full-fledged panic attack?

 

 

They entered the park and made their way to the gazebo just off the paved walkway. Without a word, each of them took a seat around the table and kept a close eye on Souji, who hadn’t said a word since. In the distance the emergency personnel were still working and tow trucks arrived to clear the wrecks. Orders were given and carried out. Questions were shouted from the crowd. But it all fell short of the group.

 

The sirens finally died down and the gazebo was home to a different sort of silence. Souji’s shoulders were still trembling, sometimes so much that he seemed about ready to slide off the bench or crash into the table. But he didn’t say anything. Just held his face in his hands and stared at the table surface, obscured by his gloves.

 

They were silent. Megumi looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Rise seemed torn between comforting her friend and waiting to see if he’d break down again, a hand hovering over his shoulder, twitching open and closed over and over. And Yoshiro just watched while the adrenaline thinned and his blood cooled. What could he say? Souji had never looked so... beaten. When he’d gotten in Yuhara’s face, when he smart-talked on the court, when he came to class bruised yet without a hair out of place, he exuded an aura of control and confidence that was impossible to fake. He never puffed up or pushed through people; his strength was a quiet thing, and seemed utterly unshakable. But now he was soaked clean through, shivering and hunched in, and his clothes looked six sizes too large.

 

Finally, without a sound, Souji reached a shaking hand to his bag and pulled out his cell phone, nearly dropping it twice on the return trip. He snapped it open clumsily and began stabbing at the buttons, cursing when he hit the wrong ones and started over more than once. After the second time, Rise reached over to take it. “C’mon Senpai,” she told him quietly, “Let me give you a hand.”

 

“Thanks,” he replied hoarsely, ”but I’ve got it.”

 

“I’m sure I can dial a number for you.”

 

“No thanks.” There was no firmness to his voice now. No quiet smile . No dry wit. There was just... nothing. And it felt wrong. Seta Souji didn’t falter or crack. He didn’t show his weaknesses without knowing they were there. He was discipline and focus, he was intellect and strength. He was never, ever vulnerable.

 

But then, Yoshiro thought, the Seta Souji he knew didn’t suffer from massive panic attacks after acts of near-suicidal heroism either.

 

Finally Souji got the number right and held the phone to his ear, face buried in his free hand again. The time between rings stretched out, and Yoshiro didn’t know what to do with his hands, or where to look. Megumi was in the same state, and yet Rise had an odd look on her face that he couldn’t interpret. Was that pity? Curiosity? Understanding?

 

“Hey Nanako,” Souji rasped suddenly, evidently connecting the call. “Hm? No, I’m fine. Just a bit under the weather.” He took too deep a breath and coughed suddenly, the sound too sharp and raw to be an act. “It’s been raining her for a while. Guess I caught something... Yeah, I will. That sounds good right about now. Were you busy? ...No, not really. Just checking in.”

 

Yoshiro would never have called himself sentimental. He didn’t offer either shoulder to his sisters when they were having problems with their boyfriends. He rarely had much to say after watching girl movies. And his favorite form of personal therapy involved sweat, body odour, and yelling at his team mates, either for encouragement or to smarten them up. He’d disappointed Megumi every anniversary, birthday, White Day and Valentine’s Day that they’d celebrated together because he’d never been able to figure out which cards and gifts were poetic and which were just sappy. No, Toyama Yoshiro was not a ‘feelings’ sort of guy.

 

Instead he’d gladly punch out the assholes who made his sisters cry. He’d carry the groceries in for his mother every time he could, especially when the elevator was broken. He’d always suggest the movies he and Megumi saw on their anniversaries and watch them right to the end of the credits, no matter how girly the title was. And he’d forego basketball practice to do it every time that the chance came up. Actions were much easier than feelings.

 

And yet Souji’s expression at that moment was almost heartbreaking, even to him. A tremulous, watery smile that was both happy and on the edge of tears. Glassy, red-rimmed eyes that stared so far beyond what was around him that he seemed to see nothing at all. Even his hair, normally that trademark lustrous silver, seemed closer to a frail and aged grey, brittle and weak. He looked like he was hanging onto what little control remained by his fingertips. And slipping. It was a personal torment so naked that it was hard for Yoshiro to keep looking at his friend.

 

“Oh yeah?” Souji continued, uncaring or unaware of his audience. “He said that, huh? Good, that’s good. I’m glad you’re taking time away together... Yeah, I know, I wish I could’ve been there too... No, I just couldn’t get the time off school. But I’ll be coming back in a few months, once I’m done here, and I’ll be around for a while after that, so I promise we’ll hit the beach next summer... Yep, that’s a promise... Oh, okay. Well, take care... I will. And Nanako? I love you. You know that, right? ...Yeah, I will. See you later.” He snapped the phone shut, clasped it between his hands, and didn’t say a word.

 

“Senpai?” Rise whispered, resting her hand on his shoulder and leaning forward. “How’s Nanako-chan?”

 

He didn’t answer, but hunched forward, pulled himself inward as his shoulders started to tremble. A quiet series of heavy, shaking breaths choked their way out, and while Yoshiro couldn’t see any tears, there was no doubt in his mind that was what Souji was doing.

 

He couldn’t watch this anymore. “Hey,” he said finally. “Get it together. Your girl’s alright, isn’t she? Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

 

Megumi and Rise glared at him from across the table, but Souji’s compressed sobs were mixed in with rough chuckles for a moment before the wracks lessened, then stopped altogether. He sniffed sharply, clearing his nose, and wiped at his face before staring back down at the table.

 

“Before I moved here,” he began in a flat voice, but with more control than he’d had on the phone, “I lived in Inaba, a small town west of Kyoto in the Tottori prefecture. With my uncle, who’s a police detective, and my cousin, Nanako, for a year. Met some great people there, learned a lot, but I must have bad timing because there was a series of kidnappings and murders that started a little while after I got there. I got involved with the case because of my uncle and worked with him to get to the bottom of the murders.” He took a deep, fortifying breath, and looked a little stronger for it. But his voice was still tone-dead. “The culprit used a local businessman as a cat’s paw, almost got the guy arrested, but we went further and... well, started catching up to the real murderer. But it made us a target. Nanako was kidnapped to make a point. And she ended up in a car accident when the murderer’s truck crashed, trying to get away from the cops.”

 

Megumi, who’d turned pale at the last details, shakily asked “Was she alright?”

 

Rise looked about to say something, but was cut off. “No,” Souji replied, his face as gloomy as a graveyard gargoyle. “She died in the hospital.” Megumi cringed when she heard him, and Yoshiro felt a little sick. “The thing is, they resuscitated her. Brought her back. Most of us called it a miracle, and I have no idea how it happened.” He let out a heavy breath, eyes closed against the memories. “But I was the one who put her there. The killer sent warnings to me, and I kept them to myself. Never told my uncle.” He held up a hand, thumb and forefinger barely an inch apart. “Because I was _this_ close to catching him.”

 

“That’s not fair, Senpai,” Rise objected. “You were locked up. There was nothing you could do. And none of us caught it either.”

 

“You were there too, Rise-san?” Megumi asked quietly.

 

“I met Senpai and the others in Inaba. I have family there.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, Rise,” Souji replied grimly. “Nanako was my responsibility, not yours. I got involved in the investigation before you and the others, and I passed the warnings off.”

 

“So what now?” Yoshiro asked. “You can’t change the past, and you deserve better than to wallow in guilt when things go sideways. I mean, you did a good thing today. Doesn’t that count for something? Sounds like your cousin forgives you.”

 

“Nanako doesn’t remember the accident clearly,” Souji replied with a cold, level stare. The unease hit Yoshiro as he saw, personally, why Souji had the reputation of being a glacier at school, but the effect lessened when that face, practically his trademark, showed that was getting back to his old self. “She doesn’t hold grudges or focus on the past. She’s far more forgiving than I am, and a lot stronger. She can let all that go like it was a bad dream. But every time it rains, every car accident I see, all I can think about is how she paid for my stupidity.”

 

“Then remember something else next time,” Megumi insisted, leaning forward to catch his stare and not giving an inch. “That little girl today? You saved her. Not us, not the cops, and not her parents. You’re the one who ran into traffic and got her out of the way. Without you, she wouldn’t be standing right now.” Souji said nothing. Just stared. But there were cracks in his level stare, a thoughtful look coming across his eyes. Megumi picked up on it and continued. “And no matter how much you hate yourself for the past or how little you might think you did today, it was enough to save her, wasn’t it?”

 

Souji was the first to look away, a familiar gleam slowly emerging through the cracks in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to leave them and their refusal to let him wallow in his guilt behind. But he stayed. He was listening, or so Yoshiro hoped. Tapping his finger on the table. “Maybe…” Then he shook his head before looking at each of them in turn. “Regardless. Thanks. All of you. I appreciate you sticking around.”

 

“That’s what friends do for each other,” Megumi replied, saying it before the others could.

 

“Ah,” Kato-san, the EMT from before, called as he turned the corner. “There you are, Seta-kun. How are you feeling?”

 

Megumi leaned back as they all turned to face the newcomer, though not without a few sideways glances to Souji, who seemed almost back to normal. Any further heart-to-hearts would have to wait.

 

“Better, sir,” was the smooth reply.

 

“Headache? Chest pain? How’re your extremities? Any trembling or loss of feeling?”

 

Souji’s face cracked a little and spread into a small smile. “I’ve had the same headache for days, but my chest is feeling a little better.”

 

“Have you tried walking? How’s your balance?”

 

“Not sure, sir.”

 

“Fair enough. We need to take some tests at the hospital, and we’re leaving soon. Give unassisted walking a try, alright?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

Kato-san snorted good-naturedly. “Enough with the ‘sir’, Seta-kun. No need to make me feel any older.”

 

Souji chuckled quietly. “I understand.”

 

“We’d like to come with him, Kato-san,” Yoshiro put in before the EMT could leave.

 

He received an appraising stare in response. “Are you family? Are you injured yourselves?”

 

“No. We’re his friends. And I’d feel better if I knew he was feeling better when he’s released.”

 

“That’s not necessary,” Souji protested from his seat.

 

“He’s going to a hospital,” Kato-san told them. “He’ll be getting medical attention. He’s not going to leave without us thinking he’ll be alright.”

 

Yoshiro shook his head. “Still. I’d like to be there.”

 

“As would I,” Megumi put in, not forcefully but also not about to back down from the issue.

 

“Really,” Souji objected, “that’s not necessary. They’re going to run their tests, prescribe bed rest, and take up the rest of the day with questions and waiting times. No need for everyone to get stuck there.”

 

“Not a chance, Senpai,” Rise piped up with a determined set to her brow. “You need to let us help you sometimes.”

 

“I don’t want to-“

 

“It’s not an imposition,” she almost snapped. “We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

 

Kato chuckled as he checked his trauma kit, trying to look like he hadn’t heard Souji get a dressing down from a young lady nearly a foot shorter than he was. “If you’re entertaining advice, Seta-kun, I suggest you just go with it. Women like that are impossible to sway.”

 

“It was worth a try,” Souji replied dryly. “No reason for everyone else to have a bad day, right?

 

The EMT shook his head. “It’s not about having a bad day, or about being a problem for others. It’s about being friends. And you have some good ones.”

 

“Senpai’s used to looking after everyone else,” Rise told him sweetly, her features shifting in a flash.

 

“That would do it,” Kato nodded before turning back toward the street. “But come on. Traffic’s cleared up a little, so we’re heading out. And Saito-san’s gotten in touch with your father, Seta-kun, so he’ll be there to cover the paperwork if you want.”

 

Souji snapped taut as a piano string, staring at the EMT with a look that said ‘Are you serious?’ like he’s yelled it. Yoshiro thought Rise changed moods fast; Souji nearly put her to shame. And yet his expression wasn’t anything Yoshiro could describe. “My father?” Souji asked, his voice cool and smooth with a current of tension underneath it.

 

Oblivious, Kato turned back and kept speaking like he hadn’t noticed Souji’s face change. “Yes, he was listed as your emergency contact on your health care information. Saito-san tried getting through to him as soon as you stabilized, and it sounds like everything’s been hammered out, or will be soon enough.”

 

“That’s not necessary.” Souji’s voice was different, Yoshiro noticed with a sinking feeling. Deliberately detached, cool on the edge of being chilly. He felt his mind become still, prepared for another panic episode should whatever was going through Souji’s head aggravate his ragged psyche.

 

Kato finally caught on that there was something odd about his patient’s demeanour, and turned around fully. “He’s your father, Seta-kun,” the EMT responded with a trace of a rebuke in his voice. “It’s not like this will be an imposition to him. This was a serious situation, and you are under age.”

 

“It’s not about me,” Souji denied quickly. “Not entirely, anyway. I just don’t want him contacted.”

 

Yoshiro’s mind locked into fifth gear and crashed into him with insight. Of all the topics Souji talked about, everything he had experienced and clearly knew, his family was one thing he never brought up, and either deflected or ignored when someone asked it of him. He’d even been honest about having a girlfriend when asked. Sort of. He was a private person, obviously, and he’d never offer that information, but he always addressed topics when they came up. This was different, and it set Yoshiro’s hackles up.

 

Kato’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem with him being at the hospital?”

 

Souji shook his head. “Not a problem, per se. I just don’t want him there.”

 

“Your face is bruised,” Kato noted, his own voice taking on a chilly edge. “Is that why you’re reacting this way?”

 

“No,” Souji told him flatly. “I got these from a fight with some school mates the other night. My father doesn’t hit me; I’d send him through a wall if he tried. He just doesn’t need to be there.”

 

Kato stared hard at Souji, and finally crossed his arms. “Why? Does he work in the government? Is he a diplomat involved with high-stakes negotiations so he can’t come to see his son?”

 

“He’s in corporate finance,” Souji replied smoothly. “So’s my mother. They’re both lifers.”

 

That set Kato back a little. “You’re serious.” Souji gave a sober nod. Kato frowned, then shook his head and raised his hands helplessly. “Not a lot I can do about it now. Saito used to work domestic calls and deal with a lot of child abuse cases. I hate to say it, but he might become a bit... insistent with your father if he gets stubborn.”

 

Souji sighed and brought a hand, now rock steady, to his forehead. Then shook his head. “Nothing helping it now,” he replied finally. “Maybe he’ll get stuck in traffic.”

 

Kato chuckled, then turned and led them from the park. Yoshiro caught up to his friend and whispered “Is he really that bad?”

 

“I didn’t get my charming personality by fluke.” Souji gave a half-hearted smirk before it fell from his face, leaving a pensive frown behind. “He’s a corporate man, through and through. I swear he has cash flows instead of veins and stock values coded into his DNA. And he hates having family life interfere with work.”

 

“I see,” Yoshiro ventured.

 

“No you don’t,” Souji shot back, not unkindly. “But that’s alright. I don’t want anyone’s sympathy; it’s just not a happy topic for me. And there’s still the chance he won’t show up, right?”

 

 

And there had been hope of that.

 

The ride to the hospital, the battery of tests the doctors conducted and the measurements they took (delayed by Souji’s adamant refusal to take off his gloves, arm wraps or shirt, which raised a few eyebrows) had all come and gone without interruption or comment about his father. At times Souji tensed or looked sharply toward the door at approaching footsteps, but it was a false alarm every time. Any chance of a setback into a panic attack, or even fretting and somber indifference, was smothered by Rise and the others keeping him company, sharing stories, doing homework, and talking about whatever non-Inaba topics they could. And it soothed him in a way he hadn’t felt outside of Inaba or Rise’s company, brought him back to normal faster than expected. When the nurse said, almost two hours later, that his test results were clean enough for the doctors to release him, and his father still hadn’t arrived, everyone began packing up to leave. Souji let a smile of relief cross his face when the door opened one more time.

 

They thought it was Kato-san or Souji’s doctor coming to wish him well. They were wrong.

 

Yuuma Seta stood at the doorway, his cold glare sucking the heat out of the room. Souji growled in exasperation under his breath, muttering ‘Too much to hope for’ while the others didn’t seem to know what to do. Indeed, his eyes flicked over to his son, prone on the hospital bed, then skimmed over Yoshiro and Megumi, barely registering them at all, and landed on Rise, who was sitting near her Senpai.

 

“Are you responsible for this fiasco, you little tramp?” he demanded sharply. “Where are your reporters and paparazzi?”

 

“I- What?!” Rise snapped, disbelief and indignation flashing in her eyes.

 

“Father,” Souji snarled from the bed, pushing himself up. “Don’t even start with that.”

 

“You caused me enough humiliation last time you got involved with my son,” Yuuma continued, not caring about Souji’s response. “Remember your little stunt that got him on the cover of every gossip magazine and supermarket tabloid a few months ago?”

 

“That wasn’t my fault!” Rise objected. “There was nothing I could do about how the media spun that! And is it wrong for me to spend time with my friend?!”

 

“So you’re here for what? Because you need the attention?”

 

“I’m here because I want to be here, Seta-san,” she responded fiercely, face flushed and eyes narrow.

 

“So you can reap the royalties from the media when he gets involved with you again? You’re nothing but trouble for us, girl.”

 

“ _Excuse me?!”_ Rise snapped, her voice an octave higher than usual and almost flying out of her chair. ”Who do you think you are to say that?! Senpai and I are friends! What’s wrong with that?!”

 

Yoshiro and Megumi were about to come to her aid in the face to the stony-faced exec when a frigid voice shivered its way across the room. “Rise, could you and the others give us a minute in private?” Souji’s eyes were harder than the steel beams making up the hospital’s skeleton. His voice was low, even, and yet sounded even more dangerous because of it.

 

Rise spun to him, her eyes flashing. “You’re going to let him say that?! C’mon Senpai, where’s-“

 

“I’ll address that,” Souji assured her, his eyes not leaving his father’s. “But this is a personal matter, and it’s been a long time coming. So could I meet you guys outside?”

 

They might have objected, or they might not have. Father and son stared across the empty space of the room, cut off from the rest of the world. Finally, there were footsteps _tapp_ ing and _click_ ing toward the door, then the sound of the door closing behind them. It was the bull’s red flag.

 

“I told you to stay away from that girl,” Yuuma stated sternly. “She caused us enough grief last time, or don’t you remember?”

 

“I remember many things you’ve said over the years,” Souji responded, no more cordial or pleasant. “And if I’d followed them, I’d probably be suicidal by now.”

 

“Don’t be smart with me, Souji. I told you to stay away from that little tramp, but here she is. Did the press follow her to the accident? Will I see you on the front page again? And what about the emergency officer who called me? Do you know what he said?”

 

Souji shook his head, both frustration and anger playing across his pale features. “That’s it? I had a panic attack in the middle of the sidewalk, and all you can talk about is how it affects you? Are you even listening to yourself? I didn’t expect them to call you – I’d forgotten I even had you as an emergency contact, and gods know I wouldn’t have asked them to call you out of sentimentality or because I thought you’d care. Like I told you before: Rise’s a friend. She’s here because she actually wants to be, and don’t you _ever_ talk to her or about her like that again.”

 

Yuuma’s eyes twitched a little at that, but his face remained stoic and detached. “Don’t be melodramatic, Souji; you didn’t have a panic attack.”

 

There was a pause. Then a low, cold growl creeping from between clenched teeth. “And you know that how? Did you see my charts? Does corporate backstabbing make you an MD? You weren’t there. If I had to guess, I’d say you were in a business meeting and had to be threatened with child abuse and being labelled a negligent parent to be bothered to come here at all. But my heart felt like it was going to punch a hole in my chest, I had tunnel vision, and it felt like the whole world was caving in around me.” The next words came out in a fierce, angry hiss: “I know damn well what I had, because I was there. And I’m sorry it inconvenienced you so much to visit your kid in the hospital.”

 

“It’s not an inconvenience,” Yuuma stated simply, surprising some of the fight out of Souji. Instead of getting angry, the elder Seta was growing calmer with every word they exchanged. Calm enough to slip out of his business coat and drape it on the instrument table nearby. “The meeting was going nowhere anyway. The chairman actually looked pleased that I was... addressing a family matter.”

 

Souji stared at his father before shaking his head. “So even that was good for work,” he replied flatly. “I’m glad.”

 

“It was,” Yuuma admitted without a hint of shame, “but, as you said, that should be a secondary concern right now. How are you feeling?”

 

“Fine,” was Souji’s curt response after a disbelieving snort. He turned to the side and reached for his jacket. “I’m fine. You’ve made your appearance and can leave now. I don’t expect anything else from you.”

 

“You’re certain?” Yuuma continued, undaunted by his son’s stiffening frame and smouldering eyes. “Then the doctors have looked you over?” Souji rested a hand on the bed, muscles tensing and eyes narrowing into a glare that could have punched through the hospital walls. His only other response was a sharp nod, and his father continued unabated. “Take things easy then, maybe do some studying. It wouldn’t do to subject yourself to more histrionics and risk a relapse. And ask the doctor if he thinks this is a hereditary condition.”

 

“Yes, I’ll ask him.” Souji hissed. “And I’m fine. Now kindly leave.”

 

The elder Seta reached out to rest a hand on his son’s shoulder. “And it wouldn’t do to repeat these interruptions to my own schedule, never mind your mother’s. We’ll have to update your contact information. Still, if you aren’t feeling well, I’ll understand if you want to take some time off school for your health. So long as your grades don’t suffer, of cou-“

 

It happened in a flash. Souji shirked away from the appendage on his shoulder and whipped around, slapping it away with one hand and pointing a finger accusingly with the other. “ _Don’t!”_ he snapped sharply. His face was flushed, contorted and furious. “Don’t talk to me like you give a shit about me! Don’t you dare try and smooth this over with some fucking insipid apology!” The outburst surprised them both – it shocked Yuuma into momentary silence, and Souji out of what was looking like the beginning of a murder frenzy. Taking a few calming breaths, the younger Seta continued, his eyes twisting and swirling like a hurricane. “I know very well what my place in this family is, Father. It’s all I’ve known since I was born, and neither you or Mother have made it feel any different. You’re the ones who make the money, I’m the one who carries on the family name. I may as well have been brought up in a test tube for all the interaction I have with you two.” His voice was still angry, but the words were raw, torn bloody and ragged from where he’d been storing them for years. “But now you act like you actually care about me outside of work, and I don’t need that. Mother’s been acting different lately, and I don’t care. I’m past wanting anything from either of you.”

 

Yuuma had been quiet the entire time, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes. But when he spoke, he was a Seta again, completely calm and collected. “We are your parents, Souji. Rebel against it all you want, but nothing’s going to change that.”

 

“And a few years ago, I might have agreed with you,” Souji replied. “But not now. Now I know that there’s more to a ‘family’ than blood. You and Mother may have conceived me, but that’s it. I don’t need your interference; I don’t want you in my life anymore. You can live at work and pretend to be the caring and responsible head of a household, but leave me out of it.”

 

“Are you disowning us then?” Yuuma inquired. Souji had to give his father credit – this was the most in-control he’d ever seen the man. And, a smaller part of his mind chimed it, this was probably the longest discussion they’d ever had. “Giving up the Seta name because you don’t like how things turned out?”

 

“No,” was the response. “I am Seta Souji, and nothing’s changing that. But your opinions of my friends? I don’t care. Tell Mother that too – stay at work and leave me alone.”

 

There was a long, heavy silence between them. Every stroke of the second hand of the clock in the corner sounded like a gunshot. Until, finally, Yuuma broke it. And that little something in his eye grew a fraction. Enough for Souji to recognize it – it was pride. “She said you’d changed,” he murmured, intrigued. “She attributed it to you having a girlfriend you haven’t told us about.”

 

“Even if I did, it’s none of your business,” Souji snapped.

 

“The continuation of my name is my concern, Souji, whether you like it or not. And I have to say, you’re stronger now than you were before.“ There was a strand of humour threaded with the new interest in his voice. “I don’t think you would have spoken to me this way years ago.”

 

“People grow up,” Souji replied coldly. “It happens.” There was something in the way his father was eyeing him that Souji didn’t like. He felt like he was being assessed, categorized, and labelled for auction, a commodity to be bargained over. “What, aren’t you going to ground me? Demand that I do as you say?”

 

“No. If it didn’t work before, it won’t work now. Have you decided where you’re going to apply for university?”

 

Souji was struck back on his heels. He had to blink to collect his thoughts, and realized with horror that he was losing control of the argument. A lifetime of repressed rage suddenly missed the mark. And his father had never been this reasonable. Ever. “Not yet. Why, do you have friends who can get me into the places you think I should go?”

 

Yuuma started to look pleased with himself. “I know a few names and numbers, yes. And with your grades and what you’ve shown me today, you’d go far indeed.”

 

Souji snorted. “I think that’s the first compliment I’ve ever gotten from you.”

 

“I’ve never said you were stupid, Souji. If anything, you’re very intelligent and resourceful. You just let your feelings get in the way of what you could have if you applied yourself. And you’re a little naive. And in need of better friends.” The words were spoken with smooth and polished aplomb, so utterly shameless that Souji had to choke back the reactive ‘go to Hell’ on the edge of his tongue.

 

“Thanks so much for that,” Souji retorted. “And I’ve been thinking of university, yes.”

 

Yuuma glanced over his son appraisingly, then shrugged as though the entire discussion had left him with nary a care. “Do that. And keep me informed.”

 

“Not likely.”

 

Yuuma looked about to find a smiling retort of his own when his phone, hidden in his coat pocket and slipped past the posted ‘Turn off all cellular devices’ signs everywhere, began to ring. Souji glanced at it, closer to him than his father, then smirked and reached for it before his sire could react.

 

“Souji!” Yuuma snapped, his cool facade stripped away by the prospect of business being at hand. His next words were cut off by Souji holding it up warningly, his thumb over the ‘talk’ button. Yuuma snapped his mouth shut – he wouldn’t be caught dead making a bad first impression with a client.

 

Souji connected the call and held it to his ear, his blood cooling, temper settling, with the power of their discussion moving back into his grasp.  He turned his side to his father, his smirk growing into a small, cold smile. “Hello, this is Seta Yuuma’s phone,” he said smoothly in a voice and tone made for boardrooms and conference halls. His father twitched visibly at being called by name by his own son. “He’s presently occupied, but I’m happy to assist you where I can. How can I help you?”

 

“Ah... yes, greetings to you there. This is phone of Chief Yuuma Seta, proper?”

 

Souji nearly yanked the phone away from his ear – he’d never heard such a grating and badly butchered version of his native language before. And his father was a manager, not a CEO. But that was a common issue with foreigners. The speaker’s accent, or distinct lack of a proper one, and the songs playing on the radio in the background all gave him an idea. He felt his brain shift, neurons flicking switches and redirecting down routes he hadn’t used in a while. Once he went over the words in his head he replied, in flawless English, “Yes, this is Mr. Yuuma Seta’s phone, and he’s right here. What did you need?”

 

“Ahh, excellent!” the man on the other side stated with unconcealed relief in his native language. “Thank you, our interpreter has the day off, and my Japanese is rusty.”

 

Yes. Rusty. And drinking the South China Sea through a straw in one sitting was a little unlikely. “No problem,” Souji replied, smooth as caramel on ice cream. “Can I pass on your concern? ...Mmm hm... Yes, I remember that... Oh no... Yes, yes I understand. That makes sense... Of course, of course. One moment please.” Souji handed the phone, receiver first, toward his father. “A Martin J. Anderson is on the phone,” he reported in Japanese, catching the recognition in the man’s eyes. “He says he worked with you when you were overseas. He needs a favour, preferably one that can be delivered yesterday. They crashed their business mainframe and their projection data, their portfolios, everything is in cyberspace, ending the universe as they know it.”

 

Yuuma looked to the phone, then at his son with an uncharacteristic look of hesitance on his features. Maybe it was the unexpectedness of the call, or the reminder of his work in America. Perhaps it was that this was the furthest they’d ever taken a conversation, yelling or otherwise, and something might’ve clicked in that corporate databank he called a mind. Souji gave the equivalent of a mental snort. Of course not; his parents didn’t work that way. And he hadn’t been lying earlier – he didn’t want them to. No, the concern was probably coming from thinking of ways to work a foreign project into everything else he was already juggling. Or how much he would be able to charge for emergency work.

 

He shook the phone a little and stretched his arm more, professional debonair smothered by flat apathy as thick as a blubber blanket. “Go on, Father. This is the easy part.”

 

Whether that was the encouragement he needed or just good timing, Yuuma took the phone, a businessman again, and turned his back to his son, already addressing opportunities as usual.

 

Souji paid him the same favour. He grabbed his jacket, pulled the door open, and headed out to the hallway. He nodded to the nurse at the station and requested his release forms before turning to the others. Rise was pacing in short, tight circles, her face still dark with anger. Her lips were moving, evidently seething and swearing to herself from what his father had said. Nearby were Yoshiro and Megumi, perched on a nearby bench and holding hands and talking quietly. All three looked up as he approached and stood up to meet him at the desk.

 

They all looked about to talk. Souji beat them to it. “I’m really sorry about what he said to you, Rise. You’re not the first of my friends he’s been like that to.”

 

“That’s really your father?” she asked.

 

“I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Souji answered with a half-smile that was part bitter sarcasm and part cold anger. “But yes, I’m afraid so. That’s actually a little worse than usual. Most times he’s too busy on the phone to even notice who’s around him.”

 

“You said he works in corporate finance?” Megumi asked, a troubled bend to her brow.

 

“Yep. Him and my mother. They make quite a team.” Souji shook his head, trying to dispel the topic of his family. “But enough about them. Let’s get out of here. I’ll make it up to you all, having to put up with him.”

 

“That’s not necessary, Senpai,” Rise objected almost automatically, glaring at the still-closed door Souji had come from.

 

“I insist,” Souji replied firmly. “I feel like anyone who’s been subjected to either of my parents deserves something for the experience. Wherever we go, it’s on me.”

 

“Are you feeling better?” Yoshiro asked, still guarded and sober.

 

Souji looked over with a half smile, one that he genuinely felt instead of hiding behind his usual mask. “Yep. All better.“ He caught Yoshiro’s skeptical stare and chuckled. “Come on. The doctors released me, didn’t they?”

 

“They’re not you. You’d know if you were better or not, right?”

 

“He’s got a point, Senpai,” Rise mentioned, handing him his umbrella and apparently getting over her anger at his father. “Nothing like this has ever happened to you before. You gonna be alright?”

 

Souji shook his head at their over-protectiveness, but also smiled at their concern. “I feel much better now. Are we still up for ramen?”

 

They looked at him, then each other in a silent discussion, before Megumi nodded and pointed down the street. “It’s this way. And I’m still hungry, since you’re offering.”

 

“Me too,” Yoshiro put in, dropping the issue, or at least adjusting his priorities. “And we won’t need our umbrellas this time; it’s finally stopped raining.”

 

Souji looked up into the sky, and noticed that he was right. It had echoed in his ears, in his mind for so long lately that he hadn’t noticed. The clouds were cracking and broken, still grim and grey but finally moving on. It wasn’t enough to show sunbeams like in paintings or cliché TV shows. There wasn’t a fanfare on the wings of angels, or other patients of the hospital coming out to marvel at the sun after so long. No, if anything, it was still muggy and sticky. Souji was still half-soaked with his clothes clinging to him uncomfortably. Traffic still rushed and roared along the roads, uncaring of the accident only a few hours before. And an emergency vehicle siren could be heard in the distance, coming toward the hospital.

 

But whether it was cliché or not didn’t matter. What weather front was coming next, how soon autumn would arrive, his problems with his father and what fallout awaited him later. None of it mattered.

 

Because the rain had finally stopped.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Ruddy clouds edged in violet greeted the sun as it rose, curving the light into ribbons and streamers of bright gold. The morning below was cool, with dew from the evening’s rain still clinging to the turning leaves of the maples and cherry trees around the Amagi Inn. Their smell was carried on a calm breeze under the cleaned windows and ancient hewn beams and boards. Along the walls and down the walkways and around corners like children playing tag until it reached and passed a particular window. And the young woman behind that window stirred beneath the quilts, pulled out of sleep long enough to look at her alarm clock before rolling back over to try and catch the fleeing threads of her dream. But no matter how nice a dream it was, and how much she enjoyed Souji’s particular scent or the feel of his hands, so real they made her shiver, there was also the sounds of footsteps of the staff hard at work and the smell of miso soup wafting from the kitchen. And she knew that when the soup was being made, it was time to get up for school. With a sigh as her dream, such a nice dream, faded from around her, she pulled back her quilts and pushed herself up.

 

She stepped out of her short sleeping yukata and hung it on the nearby peg, then slipped out of her customary drawstring shorts and t-shirt before getting dressed for school. Underwear, stockings, shirt, skirt, it all went on in easy routine. Then she looked at her mirror, seeing the impossible-to-ignore smile that dreams of Souji had spread across her face, and brushed her hair until it shone in the low light of the morning. He always had liked her hair. So had she, and tending to it was a pleasure first thing in the morning. Finally, she grabbed and set her barrette and pulled on her cardigan before turning to the door and grabbing her book bag, slipping into the hallway as quietly as she could.

 

Yukiko stopped at one of the corridor intersections and looked down at one of the indoor Zen gardens the staff tended to so carefully. She found the swirls and curves of the crushed rocks and the sharp faces of the boulder as calming now as she had found them fascinating as a child. Mother told her that when she was sick or cranky as a child, they could always bring her to the gardens and she would immediately calm down, staring at the tended rocks for hours on end. It even got to the point that she’d creep out of her room at night and the next morning they’d find her asleep against the railings surrounding the gardens, out like a light. There were even times, before she could remember, that she had slipped into the Zen gardens to get a closer look at the designs or touch the black boulder in the middle. Her parents had encouraged her curiosity and fascination, but the Inn workers politely encouraged her to stay out of them – raking the rocks in just such a way was time consuming. Yukiko chuckled to herself. The gardens had always put her at ease and made her connect with the Inn better than she had years ago. It was more than a building – it was a labour of love combined with something inexplicable that her family had always been a part of, right from the first plans and ideas. And that feeling hadn’t changed in all the generation leading up to her.

 

This was more than where she lived: this place was home for her. And after coming to terms with that, it had never felt so good to say it, to herself or out loud. She smiled as she continued down the hall; she had Souji to thank for that.

 

She considered bypassing the hall where her parents’ room was, but thought a “Good morning” when they’d all been so busy would be appropriate. She slipped quietly down the hall and was about to call to them when she glanced through the open door to their room. And the words died in her chest while she covered her smile.

 

Her parents were resting together on the opposite side of the room, and if not for the faint stream of ambient music from an unseen stereo, piano and flutes and synthesizers, she would have thought they were asleep. Her father, wearing a simple brown sleeping yukata, was sitting against the door frame, eyes closed and looking remarkably peaceful and happy despite how much he chewed Souji out when he’d visited months before. And Mother, clad in burgundy, sat next to him, leaning against her husband with a similar expression of happy serenity across her classical features. His arms were gently wrapped around her stomach, and her hands linked with his. They were each off in their own world, and they were traveling there together.

 

Yukiko let herself enjoy the scene for a moment before the needs of the day took over. She quietly padded past the open door and through the kitchen to grab her breakfast and lunch, greeting all the employees she came across, before heading toward the main foray, where Kasai was carrying an oddly-shaped package in from the front door.

 

“Good morning. Did that just arrive?”

 

The older employee turned her eyes up at the sound of her voice. “Ah, Yukiko-chan. Good morning. Yes, just now.”

 

 Kasai set the package on the front desk of the Inn and carefully unwrapped it, immediately humming in pleasant surprise when she saw its contents. Yukiko, on her way toward the door, stopped long enough to look over the older woman’s shoulder to see what caused the reaction.

 

It was a bouquet of flowers, and despite ordering and collecting bouquets for different occasions since she could walk down the street by herself, it was one of the most colourful arrangements she had ever seen. A cluster of white anemones on one side, pink and red roses on the other. A large cluster surrounding the centre consisted of pansies, zinnias, yellow camellias, sakura flowers and, of all things, several chains of bluebells. And in the middle was a ring of forget-me-nots, two rows deep, surrounding a centre of lotus blooms. The scent of the arrangement was gentle yet strong, noticeable and distinct in a way that flowed through her like water. And despite not seeing any other flowers, Yukiko caught the distinct scent of lavender in the air before she told Kasai “Sorry, I have to get going. They are lovely though, could you make sure they get into some water?”

 

“Of course, dear. Have a good day.”

 

Yukiko grabbed her book bag and purse before turning to make for the door, and she had just closed it when, unseen, Kasai opened the letter accompanying the bouquet and turned to her, too late to call her back.

 

 

Yukiko took the morning bus, as always, to the shopping district and began to walk the rest of the way. Normally she’d meet Chie on the way, but had already received a text saying the brunette was running behind, and so she continued on alone. But her solitude was broken when she turned the corner of an intersection and ran into Kanji, who was fighting with his book bag and jacket and breakfast still lodged in his mouth.

 

“Oh, good morning Kanji-kun.”

 

He finally wrestled his jacket into place before freeing his mouth. “Mornin’, Yukiko-senpai. How’s things?”

 

“Well enough. The Inn’s busy, but nothing we can’t handle. How are you doing?”

 

His expression was a mix of embarrassment and pride. Far more of the latter than the former, if his wide grin was an indication. “Ah, not bad. Those dolls and keychain plushies’re goin’ over good with the kids. Ma’s even talking to her regulars, seein’ if they got any special requests I can work on.”

 

It felt good to see her old friend so enthusiastic about his work. “Sounds like you’re enjoying yourself.”

 

“Yeah, it’s gettin’ good. Even got some new ideas for-“ his expression suddenly grew tense and his fists clenched shut. He’d glanced over her shoulder and suddenly froze up. “Uhhh... well, new ideas... and...”

 

Yukiko stopped to take a closer look at him. “Kanji-kun? Are you alright?”

 

“Good morning Yukiko-senpai, Kanji-kun.” Yukiko turned to see Naoto, dressed in her usual school uniform and untucked shirt and police cap, standing behind her.

 

Yukiko bowed politely, receiving a similar bow in response. “Good morning, Naoto-kun.”

 

Kanji seemed caught between wanting to stop and talk to her and wanting to keep walking, and in the end he executed a half turn that, while not graceful, kept him on his feet. “Uh, hey.”

 

Naoto nodded. “It is an agreeable morning. May I join you?”

 

Kanji spoke before Yukiko. “Sure. No problem.”

 

The trio continued toward Yasogami, Yukiko between the detective and the delinquent, and part of her couldn’t help but look for Chie and Yosuke as well. Despite the murder mystery being solved and the fog no longer a threat, or perhaps because of that, what remained of the team still enjoyed their time together, no matter the reason. Yet when she looked to the left, her childhood friend didn’t look calm or like he was having fun.

 

If anything, he looked like he was having a conversation with himself, lips moving without producing words and speaking too low to hear, and had been for several blocks until he stopped near the intersection leading to the school Nanako-chan went to and turned to the ladies. “Uh, hey Naoto.”

 

They both halted and the girl in question looked up, squinting a little in the light. “Yes?”

 

“I was wondering if I could ask you somethin’.”

 

A thoughtful frown adorned her face as she checked her watch. “We run the risk of being late for school.”

 

“It wouldn’t take too long,” he assured her quickly.

 

“Very well. What can I do for you?” she asked after a moment’s consideration.

 

“W-well, y’know, you an’ me- an’ all of us- worked pretty good together dealin’ with the Shadows an’ Adachi, y’know?”

 

Naoto looked confused by the shift in topic, and Yukiko couldn’t help wondering what Kanji was trying to do. “That’s correct. We did work well together back then,” Naoto acceded, trying to put his words together. “And we’ve all become good friends because of it, no?”

 

He looked relieved to have found an in, or at least that she put to words so well what he couldn’t. “Yeah, we are. Friends. And, I was wonderin’, y’know, as friends, if we could-”

 

“Hey, Mister!” Yukiko turned to see the child that had become such a common patron of Tatsumi Textiles running toward them and waving happily. Several other children had followed him, and they all looked hopeful. “Do you have a minute, Mister?”

 

Kanji glanced at Yukiko and Naoto, both of whom were looking at him curiously, and scratched the back of his head. “Uh, I dunno. I’m gonna be late for school at this rate.”

 

The irony wasn’t lost on Yukiko, and she had to hide her chuckles. Naoto watched the exchange with a curious tilt to her head.

 

“It’ll be short, I promise!” the boy assured them. “Some friends of mine were wondering about the dolls and stuff that you make, and they wanted some for themselves.”

 

“Yeah,” one of the children added, “we heard you can make anything. Like Featherman R! So could you, Mister?”

 

Kanji looked stunned by the attention, or perhaps it was the timing, but growled to himself when he got under control. “Quit callin’ me that. I ain’t that old.”

 

“So you can? Could you make me one?”

 

“Me too!” another called from the group.

 

“Is this a common occurrence, Yukiko-senpai?” Naoto asked, watching the scene curiously.

 

“It seems so,” Yukiko replied, looking on as Kanji quickly scrawled notes in his school books and double-checked the information, breaking from the children once or twice to look at the girls like he was afraid they’d kept going without him. “Souji said the children love the pieces he makes. Nanako-chan has mentioned them as well. He’s become quite popular with them.”

 

The sleuth watched for a moment longer, then turned to continue to school. Kanji looked after her, torn by indecision, until Yukiko steeped up to the group. “We have to get to school, otherwise Kanji-kun will be in trouble.” She staved off the protests of the children with an upraised hand. “You can come with us to the gates and Kanji-kun can make sure he has everything down, alright? But we will need to get moving.” The children cheered and began to work into a line as they moved, slowly but surely, toward Yasogami. Kanji gave her a grateful look, and it was clear that he wanted to get through the requests as fast as he could so he could catch up to their pint-sized detective.

 

Unfortunately for Kanji, they didn’t, and the little escort followed them right up to the gates of Yasogami. By the time he’d taken down their names and requests and shooed them off, Naoto was already at the front door. Kanji closed his notebook and looked after her, then grunted in annoyance and rubbed the back of his head.

 

“What were you going to tell her, Kanji-kun?” Yukiko asked, stopping with him to talk.

 

“I was... was thinkin’ of somethin’ Senpai told me,” he admitted, not looking at her or the school doors, itching and twitching with unspent energy. “Thought... well, never mind.”

 

He looked nervous. Not in the flushed, defensive way that Yosuke-kun was so good at provoking, but closer to about-to-try-something-incredibly-stupid nervousness, and it stopped her in place for a moment. “Did you want me to find her for you? Or pass on a message?”

 

“Ah... nah. Thanks Yukiko-senpai, but it’d be better if I asked myself.”

 

“If you’re sure...”

 

“Hey, Yukiko! Kanji!” They both turned to see Chie barrelling towards them at full tilt from the road and not even breathing hard. “What’s up? We waiting for Yosuke or something?”

 

Kanji replied first, shouldering his book bag and clearing his throat. “Nah, nothin’ like that. But I gotta get to class, so I’ll see you guys later.” He continued on toward the door himself, pushing past students who didn’t get out of the way fast enough.

 

“Good luck, Kanji-kun,” Yukiko called after him. She got a waved hand in response, but nothing else.

 

Chie perked up, stepping up to her friend curiously. “Hm? Good luck with what?”

 

But Yukiko shook her head. Maybe Souji knew more about this than she did, and yet it was hard to shake the feeling that she’d missed something. “I’m not sure,” was her response as the morning bell rang and they made their way up to class.

 

 

Classes went by in a breeze of talk and discussion and lectures, questions answered right or wrong and Ms. Kashiwagi moving sporadically between telling them to start getting ready for exams and making sharps assertions that Rise was never coming back. The words alone had seemed innocuous, but her insistence that mature fruit was more worth the effort to pick only silenced the class like Mr. Morooka’s curses never could. Once she felt her point had been made, the lecture continued, but the enthusiasm and spark had gone out of half the class in a strained silence or fervently methodical attention to detail. And everyone seemed to look to the front of the class only as long as it took to take notes.

 

Lunch came and most of the class vacated the room like children running for a specialty taiyaki truck in the winter. Yukiko pulled her bento out of her book bag, complete with the wrapped pair of ivory chopsticks Souji had bought her on one of their trips to Okina city. The memory of that day still made her smile, and the vacancy behind her stung a little less. She’d call him tonight. It had been a while since they’d spoken, and maybe he knew something about Kanji. Not only that, but he hadn’t sounded well last time they’d talked.

 

“Hey Yukiko!” She looked up to see Chie brandishing a small wrapped box, a grin on her face that wouldn’t have been out of place on the ship’s cat of a tuna boat. “Package for you, special delivery! Had to sign for it and everything!”

 

Yukiko cocked her head to one side. Perhaps it had something to do with the package that morning? She set aside her food and chopsticks and took the box, too light to hold food and too small for a book, from her friend and carefully unwrapped it. “Special delivery? How’d you get it then? And who’s it from?”

 

Chie took her seat and leaned over, gesturing impatiently. “Don’t sweat the small stuff. That was nothing. Looks like it’s from Souji. So hurry up and open it!”

 

The room went quiet around her, and the eyes of what remained of the class prickled her skin like needles. She didn’t notice. Her heart had tripped over itself, knowing that Souji had taken the time to send something to her. And even with it fitting in the palm of her hand, it couldn’t have been cheap. The shipping costs from Kofu to Inaba must have been substantial.

 

“Well?” Chie prodded, eyes bright with curiosity and mischief. “C’mon.”

 

“Yes,” Yukiko murmured, taking in the dark wood of the box and the carved sakura branches along the edges and corners. She slipped a nail between the edges and broke the seal, opening the box reverently. Sitting there, framed by crimson velvet and dark wood-

 

-was a torn-off scrap of folded paper, propped up and perfectly steady despite looking like it was about to fall over. Yukiko frowned a little – the paper was lined, and she could see creases from writing across the surface, despite what writing she could see not following the imprints at all. It was like it had been torn from a notebook.

 

She hadn’t been expecting a gold-edged letter, but a corner scrap ripped from his school notes?

 

Then she heard a faint _clink_ from behind the paper, and reached over to lift it up. And her doubts vanished when she saw a pair of polished, silver fan-shaped earrings, red and green beads tied to the bottoms. A variety of kanji characters were inscribed on the fan folds, and she couldn’t help the smile that raised the edges of her mouth. Still holding the box in one hand, she unfolded the paper with the other and carefully read the sloped, flowing script so characteristic of Souji’s calligraphy.

 

_Hi Yukiko_

_I nearly tore the library apart trying to write this, but a friend said I should just be honest. So, that’s what I’m trying. Let me know if it works, okay?_

_I saw these on a shopping trip with Rise and some of the guys on the basketball team, and I thought these would suit you, especially in your pink kimono. Hopefully the flowers made it there this morning._

_Every line of poetry I could find seemed so trite and cheap for this, so in the spirit of being honest, I thought these would say how much you mean to me. I miss you a lot, and I haven’t forgotten anything from Inaba. The ups and downs, the trips to school and by the river, the fireworks at the festival, everything I got to see there and it was better because I could share it with you. And I want you to remember that – you’re still the most important person in my life._

_Remember that day at the shrine? I’ve never been so nervous. Not before then or since. And yet that was the best decision I’ve ever made._

_I still ‘really like you’. No matter what._

_All my best. Happy anniversary, Yukiko._

_Seta Souji_

 

Whatever pang of loneliness she’d felt up to that point from missing him dissolved in the flood of happiness that rose in her heart at his words. She could hear his calm voice, soothing as a lullaby, as if he was sitting right next to her and couldn’t help the blush that warmed her cheeks or the free, silly smile that crossed her lips. She moved the note to the side and looked at the earrings again, and felt that they matched her boyfriend’s eyes and hair perfectly. Her _boyfriend_. It still felt strange and wonderful to think that, and he’d brushed away any of her doubts or concerns with a single letter. While he, her _boyfriend_ , was on the other side of the country. And that didn’t seem all that far away now.

 

Yukiko’s smile lured Chie closer, trying to look at the contents of the box, and then at the note when Yukiko pulled the box in for a closer look. Yukiko’s thumb covered the first half, but Chie caught the end of Souji’s writing and perked up in an instant. Pointedly staring around the room to get people back to what they were doing, she leaned in closely and excitedly whispered “What anniversary?”

 

Yukiko started in her seat, looking at her oldest friend in surprise, with a very telling blush across her face.

 

_Because I really like you, Yukiko._

“It’s... uh, that’s...” She floundered, completely off balance and searching for the words.

 

Chie saw her plight and kept up the stern curiosity for a moment longer before giving a long-suffering sigh. “Alright, alright. Not here. But I want some details later, okay?”

 

“Uh, right. It’s a little... I guess, if you want to know,” she replied finally.

 

“Good! Now let me see! Those’re beautiful, and they look expensive!”

 

 

Classes were over before Yukiko even noticed they’d started again. Chie’s perpetual grin and meaningful looks to her book bag where she’d stashed Souji’s gift were her companions through what parts of the school day she did remember. Yukiko had been given enough time to collect her things and take three steps out the school doors; Chie was waiting on the fourth, giving Yukiko an expectant ‘Well? Come on!’ look that she knew from their childhood together. But Chie was satisfied with the short, mostly-concise explanation that the anniversary in question was when Yukiko and Souji had started going out. Telling some of the details had left Yukiko blushing, but Chie didn’t push for more. All she did say when the story was over was “Souji can be a real sap, huh?” Then she shrugged with a smile. “Still, that’s really sweet of him. I don’t think Yosuke would remember an anniversary, or put that much effort into it.”

 

They chatted on their way home, about classes and upcoming exams, where they were planning of going to university and what studies to pursue. Chie affirmed her desire to become a police officer and had badgered Souji until he’d put in a good word for her with Dojima. The grizzled detective had been hard to convince, and was still skeptical of her resolve. That he’d apparently told Souji as much had made Chie a little edgy, but hearing the man say it personally steeled her resolve. Even after he told her how much school work and studying went into being a uniformed officer. Their conversation died when Chie got a call from her parents and had to run the rest of the way home, leaving Yukiko in the shopping district. She had some time, so she pulled Souji’s gift out and opened the box again.

 

They were so bright in the sunlight that she had to look away, but not before they sent her mind careening to the past. To the stage lights and mist-filled corridors and TV screens everywhere. Quicksilver movement from one side or the other. The flash of weapons and lightning. A Persona manifesting and tearing the room apart. But also the light of healing and protection.

 

And glasses for everyone on the team. They all gleamed like that in the light. Especially his. Whether it was because he regularly cleaned them before, after and during their forays into the TV world, or his mixed bag of Personas, or maybe just his fair complexion, his glasses and eyes always flashed in the light of battle.

 

Before and after he’d left, Yukiko had overheard the girls in class debate what Souji’s best features were. Plenty said it was his smile, because he so rarely showed it with sincerity. Others said it was his voice and diction, his insight and how he respected people and gave them encouragement whenever he could. Almost all agreed his body made up the majority of the package, from his toned biceps to legs hardened from years of running, and the firm butt housed nicely in between.

 

Yukiko liked his hands, callused from basketball grooves and swinging a sword, but still soft from holding books. And just the right size. She liked his mouth, expressive and showing his thoughts through twitches and quirks even when he thought he was being stoic and distant. And she especially liked his eyes, how they could go from the shade of pale concrete to dark slate depending on his mood. But they were always soft when she talked to him. She blushed a little, but smiled as the thought led to another: she’d never wish Souji’s vision to diminish or fail, but she couldn’t deny that he looked _really_ good with glasses.

 

When she looked up from the earrings, she noticed she was at the steps leading up to the shrine, and stopped to look up at the ancient structure. Gold plating and regular scrubbing from the new faithful aside, it hadn’t changed much from when she had asked the question that had been nagging her for weeks. When Souji’s answer was reflected in the lovely note in her hand.

 

The memory always made her smile, and yet it was the day before they became a couple that truly made her laugh.

 

She’d been waiting at the shrine for a while already, soaking in the relaxing silence. Puffy clouds drifted lazily across the sky, carried on a gentle August breeze. The smell of soil and bark and leaves surrounded her, kept her heart and mind calm. Even the sharp shafts of sunlight that hit her face through the thick canopy only added to her thoughts instead of interrupting them. There was still the matter of the Inn to consider. It had been getting harder and harder to find the motivation to leave, no matter what reasons she came up with. But Souji was meeting her soon. Maybe talking to him would help her decision. And with that she let her mind turn over the Rubik’s cube that was the boy who’d occupied her attention for so long.

 

Where did he come from? What sorts of things had he seen? What was his family like? She’d never heard him talk about himself before he’d moved to Inaba, and it only made her wonder more. What did he like to do? Besides basketball – everyone knew about his friendship with Ichijo and Nagase. And, the discussion topic of the week at school, what sort of girl did he go for?

 

That one had her turning circles in her mind. He was athletic, so she was sure he’d get along with Chie. And they did, quite well if their comments in the TV world were any indication. But Chie never mentioned going further than that. And the other female athletes at school didn’t seem to appeal to him, regardless of their straightforward personalities and tight frames. Maybe he liked city girls? She’d heard he was from Tokyo, and he and Yosuke had hit it off in no time at all. Was Rise-san, bubbly and bouncy, more to his taste? He’d... Hmm. Yukiko frowned. He’d helped her in school, but no more than any of the team. He’d invited her to their victory party– no, that had been Yosuke. Souji had been as supportive and welcoming to her as he’d been to Kanji, yet never went further than that.

 

And despite all the time she’d spent with him, from shopping at Junes and the downtown district to walking and talking along the Samegawa to fighting Shadows in the TV world, the topic had never come up. Nor did he give any indication to where his tastes lay. Sure it was a personal question, but he could have given some indication as to how he felt.

 

Her thoughts were cut off by the object of her musings taking the shrine steps two at a time. He already had a smile for her, and she gestured to the spot next to where she was sitting.

 

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” he told her after they exchanged greetings, taking a seat next to her. At a respectful distance, of course. Souji was always respectful.

 

She shook her head. “It was nothing. It gave me time to think.”

 

He looked around the shrine grounds, took in the trees and the stone walkways. He seemed fixated on a point behind her for a few moments, but when she turned to see what it was, he just shook his head. “This place does lend itself to that,” he replied finally, stretching in place and looking skyward. “If you don’t mind my asking, what were you thinking about?”

 

“The Inn, the TV world and the murders, among other things.”

 

He gave a low hum of understanding. “You too, huh? It’s understandable. But I hope it doesn’t take over your concerns, Yukiko. We’ll work things out as a team.”

 

She smiled at that. “I think so too.” She ran the words through her head and chose a line that seemed the most discrete. “I appreciate all the help you’ve given me these last few months. I know it can’t be easy to find the time, with everything else you must be juggling right now.”

 

“I don’t mind it,” he replied softly. “I helped you because I wanted to. And I’m always learning something with you guys. Chie and her martial arts or Yosuke and Junes or Kanji and... well, just him being Kanji. It’s never boring.”

 

There was a hitch in his tone that made her look at him closer, and she saw a soft look in his eyes that was trying to tell her something, nudge her in just the right way as to get his point across. Her lips parted to ask him-

 

-and she stopped as Kasai-san came running up the steps, as much as she could in her kimono, to tell her about the TV crew that’d been hounding her. And her heart skipped. No. No, not now. She was close, she knew it. The last thing she wanted was to hear that slick, oily drawl and those ridiculous ideas. But up the crew came, and hear them she did. And it was impossible to think through the frustration, the mortification, that their words brought up. The Inn into a freak show? Her a public spectacle? Worse, everything she’d known and lived by all her life broken and pointless, all to preserve a mockery of what she loved. And worst of all was that Souji was there to hear it all, to see her make that choice. What did he think of her? How did he see her? He looked angry at the man’s insinuations, but that would mean hiding behind him. Relying on someone to solve her problems for her again. All she heard then was her Shadow’s mocking voice. For an instant, she was surrounded by flames and those gilded bars. And she couldn’t stand the thought of any of it.

 

There was no stopping it. She snapped. The frustration of the TV crew’s constant badgering, their crude insinuations, the threats against a cornerstone of her life, the one thing she’d known since she was born, her _home_. And all in front of Souji-kun. It was too much, and it all came out at once. Instead of being scattered in her anger, she was focused. Concise instead of flustered. Authoritative where she might have faltered. When she was done and they’d left, she felt a clear-headedness that she hadn’t felt since her time in the TV. Or even before that. She became giddy at the freedom and adrenaline thrumming through her veins, so much so she almost fell over. She had been honest – the Inn was everything to her, and to hear them disparage it like-

 

Oh. Oh dear. Souji-kun heard everything. She hadn’t meant to say- No, she had meant to say those things. She should have said more, and sooner. But to be so brash, so forward, what did Souji-kun think of her? This was _her_ , after all, unfiltered and honest, so did he-

 

He looked shocked at first. But the expression turned into a wide grin, half covered by a raised hand, and chuckles. He took a step closer to her, eyes guilelessly open and warm. “That-“ He paused, collecting his words. Then he started laughing. “ _You_ were _awesome_.”

 

The tension died instantly, and her giddiness started to return, warming her from the inside. “I... I was?”

 

He nodded. “Completely awesome. Those idiots had that coming from the starting gate.”

 

That warm feeling grew with her smile. “You think... yeah. They did, didn’t they?”

 

“Remind me never to make you mad,” he continued, not losing his smile. She chuckled and used the opportunity to confirm what she’d thought for a while now – he was handsome when he smiled like that. Kasai had made her exit with neither teen noticing.

 

“You don’t think I was too... I don’t know, but-“

 

“No. That was perfect.” His grin was infectious and fuelled the fierce feeling of pride and delight in her chest. Before she knew it, she was laughing, trying to explain that it was at the TV crew, but he joined in her glee and was doubled over, laughing right next to her. The sounds of their mirth filled the shrine grounds, open as the sky and as free as the birds. She needed that, more than she knew. They both recovered eventually and sat on the temple steps, though one would chuckle or laugh at the other’s smile, and when the humour finally subsided, she noticed her hand had strayed to his, fingers resting across his palm, and he didn’t seem inclined to change that. Neither did she.

 

“Thank you,” she said finally, looking at him full on. “I wouldn’t have said any of that when we met outside the bookstore. Seems like forever ago, doesn’t it?”

 

He shrugged, still holding her hand. “Not really. I mean, you’ve changed since then, but not in a bad way.”

 

“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t...” His smile changed, grew a little softer and more pensive, and she lost her train of thought.

 

“Don’t. There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I’ve enjoyed our visits together right from the start, and I was always looking forward to the next time.”

 

She blushed at that, almost losing her words, but she pushed them out anyway. “Thank you.” He didn’t answer, and she realized how broad that was. “The Inn, the people there, they’re everything to me. I wanted to run away before, but now I know what’s important to me. And I don’t want to forget that.”

 

He nodded, seeming satisfied with her answer. “Then you’re staying here?”

 

“Yes, I am.”

 

“And it sounds like it’s by your own choice.”

 

“Of course.”

 

This time he just shook his head, diminishing the growing gravity of her words into a familiar, easy languor she’d gotten so used to around him. “Then I’m glad I could help. Because you would have regretted it, and you don’t need those sorts of regrets in your life.”

 

She blushed a little, but smiled at his words. He always knew what to say in situations like these. She had to wonder why she thought he’d be quiet and unresponsive when she first met him. “Thanks for staying with me until I saw that. It means– hey.”

 

He turned to her more, clearly amused by her suspicious stare. “Yes?”

 

“You thought I’d regret leaving the Inn? When did you start thinking that?” Despite her almost accusatory tone, their hands stayed together, not moving in the least despite her shift in mood.

 

“From the beginning,” he replied calmly. “Your family, the people you grew up with, you’ve talked about them so many times that it was pretty clear how you felt about it. Leaving all that behind would be a huge decision, too big to make on a whim.”

 

Yukiko wasn’t prone to pouting, not even as a child. She became depressed and hid deeper in her responsibilities, or just stopped talking. But she felt like pouting now. Her shoulders sank and her head dropped a little, and her lower lip stuck out petulantly. Souji grinned, and he tried to hide it behind an upraised hand. “You didn’t tell me that before? I would have listened.”

 

He shook his head, grin subsiding into a warm smile that, some other time, would have made her squirm with butterflies. But not now. “You would have realized it on your own. You stood up to your Shadow before, and you know, far better than I do, what the Inn does and doesn’t mean to you. And you hesitated when you could’ve just packed up and left. So I wasn’t too worried.”

 

He made sense, but his logic just made her pout deepen, and when she spoke she still sounded huffy. “You still should have told me.”

 

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “I had faith in you, Yukiko. That’s what it came down to.”

 

She looked over at him to see if he was lying. He sounded sincere, but she had to see first. But his easy smile and honest gaze cracked her stubborn front, and the silence for the next few minutes while they still held hands saw it disintegrate entirely as his words sank in. He believed in her. It didn’t surprise her; she saw proof of it every time they assembled and went into the TV. But to hear it herself was different. She felt a blush creep up her neck, and didn’t restrain the smile quivering at her lips. She’d already thanked him, and the words felt insufficient, so instead she laced her fingers with his, dismissing her inner doubts about propriety and how he felt about her, and squeezed his hand. And he squeezed back in response. They enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, then he shuffled a little closer to her, not enough to touch, but enough to catch her attention. His grin and chuckles were back. “And I have to say it again: you were pretty awesome back there.”

 

They both broke into laughter and stayed there, holding hands, until her phone rang and they both had to leave.

 

She didn’t get her answer. But it hadn’t mattered. He’d been there with her, and that was enough.

 

Yukiko came back from her memories and felt her cheeks stinging from the smile on her face. Her cell phone rang, indicating she had a text, so she started walking back to the Inn. The earrings were still gleaming in the sunlight, and she thought again what a thoughtful gift they and the note were. She’d have to find some way to thank him.

 

 

She had been hoping to drop her bags off in her room, along with Souji’s gift, before tending to her responsibilities. The lobby of the Inn, however, was as far as she got before she saw her parents. Her mother was looking over the flower arrangement from Souji, now in a large vase of water, with glinting eyes and wry smile firmly in place. She seemed to find something entertaining, though even Yukiko couldn’t guess what. Her father, on the other hand, was pacing near the front desk while trying to not look like he was pacing. His face was dark, his stance and features rigid, and his hands were clasped behind his back as he prowled from one side of the room to the other. Yukiko knew her father didn’t clench his teeth, no matter how much he might look like he did. But he did thread and clamp his fingers together when he was stressed. And now she thought she could hear his knuckles grinding together from the Inn landing. So, bracing herself for the scene before her, she removed her shoes and announced “I’m home.”

 

Her father’s glare hit, but her mother’s voice, liquid laughter threading into every word, reached her first. “Ah, good afternoon. How was school?” Without waiting for a reply, she indicated the lovely floral arrangement. “Kasai says these arrived for you this morning.”

 

Her father looked about to say something, but stayed silent. Yukiko nodded. “Souji sent them.” She couldn’t help but notice her father’s glare intensify at her boyfriend’s name.

 

Her mother chuckled, running her fingers over some of the stems and petals. “I see. He did his homework in sending you this. Did he mention what the occasion was?”

 

Hanakotoba was something Yukiko had been meaning to dedicate more of her time to, but it had kept getting pushed aside. Before it was Shadows and the murder investigation, and now it was school and preparing for university, but Yukiko found her interest in the topic both sparse and short no matter how often she told herself she was going to memorize the books she had on the subject. That still left the question to answer, however, and she hesitated before doing so. “He sent them as an anniversary present.”

 

To his credit, her father didn’t snap at her, or even turn when she spoke. Her mother laughed to herself. “That makes sense. I take it the initial event was important.”

 

Yukiko blushed, but nodded, moving through the lobby so she’d feel less like the centre of attention. “Yes, quite important.”

 

“Do you know if the sentiment is genuine?” her father growled, finally breaking his silence.

 

Yukiko felt the weight of his anger and bore it without a flinch. “I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I believe so. He sent me another gift and a letter along with it, and he wouldn’t do that carelessly.”

 

“So far as you know,” her father pointed out, finally turned to face his daughter. “He could be stringing you along while he’s getting into trouble with that idol, Risette.”

 

“Souji wouldn’t do that,” she replied, immediately without a hint of doubt in her voice. “He explained that situation, Daddy, and Rise-chan is a very bubbly, very physical person. She just likes to touch people.”

 

Her father sighed like a steam vent, frustration clear in every move. “And that explains it? That forgives it? Yukiko, you can do better than him. He’s unreliable, he’s on the other side of the country, and you have no way of knowing if or when that’s going to change. What about university? Will he go with you? Or will you have to wait for him even longer?”

 

That was something they had to talk about. “I don’t know yet.”

 

“Then he’s an unnecessary risk. There are other choices, closer and more reliable who won’t make spectacles of themselves for the benefit of the paparazzi.”

 

Maybe, but none of them were Souji. They hadn’t seen her, helped her, accepted her when they knew so little about her. They didn’t know where her scars came from, weren’t there when she got them or know what they meant. “I don’t want anyone else,” she replied finally, quietly but firmly. “Souji... You may not like him, Daddy, but he is important to me. And I know I’m important to him, no matter what the magazines look like or how the paparazzi spun that situation. And it’s not about how close we are or how convenient it is for us to be together. He’s dear to me.”

 

Her father was not so easily convinced. “Do you know what his plans are? How stable his life is so that he’ll make something of himself? Perhaps he won’t go anywhere in life, and we have a reputation to uphold here.”

 

“We haven’t spoken about that, no. But we will, and we’ll work around matters as they come. And he’s too determined, too smart and resourceful to not make something of himself.”

 

Ryoko was watching the entire exchange with interest, her usual half-smile still present but not reaching her eyes. Instead she was watching their daughter as close as a mother bear did her young. Katsushiro was no different, and was losing his frustration to his daughter’s stubborn defence. “I don’t think you can trust him, Yukiko,” he told her finally, an appeal to reason instead of an order.

 

She shook her head anyway. “I do trust him, Daddy. I know you’re concerned, and I love you both dearly, but this is what I want. And I’ll live with the consequences of that.” She walked up to him and calmly nodded. The mouse pulling the thorn from the lion’s paw, the vestal virgin tending to the sacred flame. Respectful, but not afraid.

 

Her father shook his head finally and muttered “We’ll talk about this later,” before leaving down one of the halls.

 

Ryoko watched her husband leave, then came around the desk and walked up to her daughter. “Give him time,” she told Yukiko. “He’s still protective of you.”

 

“I wish he and Souji would see eye to eye,” Yukiko confessed, letting a little doubt show through.”

 

“You’re his daughter. It’s only natural for him to be protective of you.” Yukiko was about to protest again when Ryoko raised her hand, silencing her immediately. “I know,” she murmured with a soft look in her eye. “I was there myself, and I know how you feel.”

 

“What do you think of Souji?” Yukiko asked after a moment. “He seemed... cautious around you when he was here before.”

 

Ryoko chuckled, the sentimental moment passing between them. “He’s polite and smart. Any boy his age that makes an arrangement like this,” she gestured to the flowers on the desk, “is either very thorough, or has a clever florist on speed dial. I think it’s too early to tell, but I’m willing to wait and see.”

 

“Thank you, Mother,” Yukiko breathed out in relief.

 

Ryoko’s smile caught an edge of frost. “Though if he does hurt you, he’ll hope your father gets to him first.” Then the iciness was gone. “But, that’s neither here nor there. Take your flowers with you and try to understand what Seta-kun is trying to tell you. And don’t forget to say ‘thank you.’”

 

The junior Amagi smiled and grabbed the flower vase before turning toward her room. “I will.” When she arrived she placed the vase on her desk, careful not to disrupt the arrangement or order to the flowers, and pulled out her homework. Part of her wanted to find her books and read up on each flower and its meaning, but it felt more romantic to not know. Satisfied with the answer, she caught up on her readings and homework and had just finished dinner when she put everything else aside and phoned Souji. He picked up on the second ring.

 

“Everything got there, I hope,” was how he greeted her. “The shipping company took forever to convince – they said delivering to a school was going to cost extra.”

 

“You mean the flowers and the earrings? Yes, they made it here.”

 

He sighed audibly on the line, accompanied by a _thunk_ as he landed on his sofa and leaned back. “Good. I hope they suit you.”

 

“They’re lovely, Souji.” She was blushing despite not seeing him, and couldn’t help the happiness in her voice. “It’s a very touching gift.”

 

He chuckled. Even through her happiness and over a phone line, he sounded tired. “It was worth it. They suit you.”

 

“I’ll try them on next time I see you. Are you visiting soon?”

 

She heard him yawn into the receiver, then sniff loudly. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m planning to be by for Christmas. Might stay there and do school by correspondence to finish up the semester, but we’ll see how the pieces fall on this end.”

 

That got her heartbeat up. “Really?”

 

“Yep. And if not, I’ll be there after I graduate. I’ve been talking to some online tutors and looking into correspondence courses to study for the university entrance exams. And I’ll concentrate better in Inaba than I will here.”

 

“That would be wonderful,” she replied with a smile in her voice. “Though with everyone around here, you might not get as much studying done as you want.”

 

She could almost hear him shrug. “Beats being here.”

 

Through the rosy and rainbow tint of her world at the moment, she heard a trace of anger and frustration in his deadpan voice, and it pulled her mind together. “Is something wrong? You sound a little-“

 

“What?” Souji called, and not to her. “One sec Yukiko, hold that thought.” She couldn’t hear the exact words, and she got the feeling Souji had covered the receiver, but his tone was cooler than she expected. Maybe he was stressed? “No,” she heard him say suddenly, clearly not talking to her and colder in tone, “I don’t. I’ll work things out with university teachers on my own.”

 

She heard another voice, more distant than Souji’s then. “...is a concern to us. We have...”

 

“I understand, Father, and I’ll take care of it. You’re going to miss your flight.”

 

Then he seemed to realize the phone wasn’t covered up as well, and she heard very little after that. She frowned and let her eyes wander over her desk. She knew he had problems with his family, but, when she thought about it, she knew very little else.

 

“Okay, I’m back,” he continued as smoothly as he’d left, sounding normal again. “Sorry, my parents are running around juggling work and things here at the house right now.”

 

“What are they like?”

 

“Who?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

 

“Your parents. You don’t talk about them.”

 

He scoffed lightly under his breath, but still loud enough for her to hear. “I’m sure I’ve talked about them before.”

 

She felt her face set into a more determined mask, staring at her bookcase like it was keeping the answers from her. “No, you haven’t. And you said they were part of the problem during your last visit to Inaba.”

 

He was silent for a few moments, then spoke slowly like he was choosing his words carefully. “There’s really not much to say. They both work corporate finance and live at the office. My father’s going back to the States to brush up on some clients he landed before and possibly hit up some new ones. Odds are he’ll be there for four to six months.”

“And will you be going with him?”

 

“Nope. I said I’d be miserable and go stir crazy from traveling and the work over there if he tried, plus my grades would suffer and... well, that was him leaving.”

 

She tried to think of Souji or her own father being on the other side of the world, so much distance between them. It made her shudder. “Will you miss him?”

 

He was choosing his words again. “That’s... well, he’s my father, so, I guess... it’s complicated.”

 

“Would you explain it to me?”

 

This time he sighed and sounded a little annoyed. “Why do you want to know, Yukiko? My parents don’t fit into my life plans or designs.”

 

“Because we’re close,” she replied, quietly but firmly. “They’re part of your life, and so they’re at least a little bit part of mine, right?”

 

Souji sighed, becoming frustrated. It occurred to her that this was becoming their first real fight as a couple, and it didn’t worry her as much as she thought it would. “They’re... we’re not close. It’s not a happy topic for me.”

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” she murmured. “I don’t expect you to be perfect. You don’t have to prove anything to me. But I want you to trust me, even with the things that are hard to deal with.” She hadn’t raised her voice at all, but Souji went quiet like she had.

 

Finally he sighed, sounding both frustrated and in pain. “I do trust you, Yukiko. More than anyone, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that. But this... It’s something you shouldn’t have to deal with. It’s not something I wanted to go through either.”

 

“It would help if you told me. Maybe we could work together and figure something-“

 

He cut her short. “Can we discuss something else?”

 

She silently acceded to his request, and the rest of their conversation was heartfelt but still cool. When they’d said their goodbyes and hung up, Yukiko was already putting the pieces together. After rereading some of her notes and helping with some of the tasks around the Inn, she went to bed early. But the entire time her mind was on the following days. There was someone she needed to talk to.

 

* * *

 

 

It hadn’t taken much. The team’s exploits and regular trips over to the Dojima residence had familiarized them all with Souji’s uncle and cousin. A few phone calls and a trip to Junes after school a few days later saw Yukiko sitting across from Nanako, enjoying an after-school snack. They chatted about classmates and homework and whatever other topics the conversation drifted to. She had to admit it was odd visiting with Nanako when Chie had cut their usual after-school antics to catch up on studying, when Kanji and Naoto were nowhere to be found and Souji was so far away. But they made the most of their meals, greeting Yosuke as he was run ragged with customers and coworkers and merchandise, watching Teddie entertain children and rattle off promotions and sales with nary a wasted movement or breath. And every now and again, when their discussions hit a lull, Nanako would hum or sing the Junes tune, doing so more openly when Yukiko smiled encouragingly in response.

 

“Thanks for the meal, Big Sis Yukiko!” she gushed as she set down her chopsticks. “That was really good!”

 

Yukiko couldn’t help the smile that graces her lips. “Any time, Nanako-chan. We did say we’d hang out with you before.”

 

“Yep!”

 

“I was wondering, why am I your Big Sis?”

 

Nanako looked puzzled by the question, then thought about it for a moment. “Well, you and Big Bro always spent time when he was here. He seemed happier when you were around.” Then she smiled again. “And I guess if I ever had a big sister, I’d want her to be like you!”

 

Yukiko smiled at the girl’s candor. “I see. Thank you.” Then she got to why she’d asked Nanako out for food in the first place. “Nanako-chan, do you know much about Souji’s parents?”

 

“Hm? Um, I know I haven’t seen aunt Izumi in...” she frowned, trying to place a time to the name she’d only ever heard before. “I don’t know. I know Dad talks about her sometimes, but he says she’s really busy.”

 

Seta Izumi. At least now she had a name. “Did Souji ever bring her up before?”

 

The girl shook her head. “Nope. Big Bro didn’t talk about her or his dad much. He just said they worked really hard, as hard as Dad does. But that was it.”

 

“I see. Thanks, Nanako-chan.”

 

Her smile was back in a flash. “Yep! You’re welcome.”

 

Their discussions varied after that, and Yukiko escorted Nanako to the grocery aisle where she had agreed to meet Dojima. The unshaven detective nodded to Yukiko when he saw her, a small smile on his face. “Thanks for looking after her,” he told her when they exchanged their greetings.

 

Yukiko shook her head. “It was nothing. She’s wonderful company.”

 

“I see.” He looked at his happily-grinning daughter. “Well, what should we get for dinner? I’ll let you choose.” Nanako immediately set down the grocery aisles, looking excitedly at everything she could. Yukiko was about to join her when Dojima held a hand out to stop her. “Thanks again,” he told her quietly, watching over his daughter protectively. “It means a lot to her to see you and the others. And she could use a feminine influence sometimes, you know?”

 

Yukiko was a little surprised at the usually-gruff man’s open candor, but took it in stride. “She’s a friend of ours, and not just because she’s related to Souji. I’ll help where I can.”

 

He chuckled. “You have your own life to live, so I wouldn’t expect you to drop everything else to help me raise her. But these outings are good for her.”

 

“Of course.” Yukiko braced herself for the real reason she’d called Nanako and Dojima in the first place. “I was wondering if I could ask you something. About Souji.”

 

He looked a little surprised, and shifted his jacket before shrugging. “No harm in asking. Not sure what I can tell you that he wouldn’t though. You almost know him better than I do.”

 

“That’s just it. I want to know about his parents.” His expression froze over. “It’s something he doesn’t talk about. I get the feeling he had problems with them, and I want to know more.”

 

“Then you should ask him about it yourself,” Dojima replied, bluntly but not unkindly.

 

“I have. I asked him the other night, and he dodged the questions or refused to talk about it.”

 

He stared at her for a moment, then grunted. “You know he might see this as going behind his back. You prepared to live with that if he finds out?”

 

She didn’t budge. “We’ve been dating for more than a year. We’ve talked about so many things that I feel like I know him better than I know myself. But that’s one topic he won’t touch, and it is important to me.”

 

Dojima was silent for several moments, turning to watch Nanako carefully pick through the packages on the shelf. “You sound like Chisato,” he murmured to himself with a chuckle. “She wouldn’t let things go either, no matter how many times I tried to drop the issue.”

 

Yukiko cocked her head to the side, momentarily puzzled. “Chisato?”

 

“Yes. My wife.”

 

She remembered what Nanako-chan had said about her mother. “Ah. I’m sorry.”

 

Dojima shook his head, a nostalgic grin on his face. “No, it’s not a bad thing. She hung on to things because she cared, and so do you.” He grunted and squared his shoulders, readjusting his jacket again before addressing her. “Izumi – that’s my sister’s name – and her husband have always had a gift for business and corporate finance. They met in business school, graduated within a couple years of each other, and have never really stopped climbing the pay roll since they got their degrees. So it was a surprise when Izumi learned she was pregnant.” He sighed and glared a little to the side, not meeting Yukiko’s eyes. “Despite having Souji, they didn’t really stop pursuing their goals. They’ve spent most of his life going from one city and office to another, and Souji...” He grunted heavily. “Souji had to do a lot of growing up on his own. I love my sister, but the man she married was always very career-oriented, and she got caught up in the rush up the ladder.”

 

Yukiko narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “So they’re distant because of their work? Yosuke-kun has a working family, and Rise-chan is an idol, and they seem alright.”

 

“The difference is that corporate work of any kind is more than a job. Izumi and Yuuma put in more hours than I ever could sometimes. When I tried phoning her I had to threaten the secretary so she wouldn’t pass me off to voice mail. And Yuuma... Well, he and I don’t see eye to eye anyway. Souji and I talked about it when he was here, and the picture he painted wasn’t very pretty. If he wasn’t exaggerating, then he’ll be back here, or at least out of the house, as soon as he can, because it sounds like he’s itching to get away from them.”

 

“But they’re his family.”

 

Dojima shrugged. “That’s what I said to him, but I still get the impression they aren’t close. When I talked to Izumi, she didn’t seem to know what was going on with him, so I don’t think he’s talked to them about anything that happened here.”

 

Yukiko frowned. It did make sense. Souji was already a private person, but knowing that his parents were so distant would have been a source of aversion to him. And perhaps he’d grown so distant from them that even talking about them was difficult.

 

“Does that help?” Dojima inquired as Nanako returned with her arms full.

 

“It does. It explains a great deal, actually.” His dedication to Nanako-chan and his uncle, how much he tried to help others with their own problems, and how understanding he’d been with the members of the team, recognizing their difficult pasts and problems.

 

Dojima continued after rolling his shoulder with a grunt. “He cares. There’s no denying it. But him and his parents, that’s not a happy situation. I know that much. And I don’t know if it can be fixed.”

 

“I see. Thank you.”

 

He quirked an eyebrow. “You’re going to keep pushing the matter with him?”

 

She shrugged, turning the new information over in her head. “Maybe not push him, but I want to help him where I can.”

 

He chuckled before turning to Nanako. “Souji’s many things, but he’s also very stubborn. So wherever you go and whatever you do, Amagi, I wish you luck.”

 

“Thank you for the help,” she replied with a bow. He shook his head before turning toward the cash registers. “And see you later, Nanako-chan,” she added with a smile as the girl walked by.

 

Nanako nodded and tried to bow back with her arms full, nearly losing her grip. “You too, Big Sis!”

 

Yukiko watched them leave before turning toward one of the other exits from Junes. She felt the pieces coming together in her mind, puzzles and layers and designs all merging together. She might have been called to by people in the store or on the way home, or she might have been completely ignored. She didn’t notice either way.

 

She went through her usual duties at the Inn, helping where needed and working with the others like usual. She talked to her parents over dinner and spoke to Chie on the phone before retiring to her room.

 

But not to study or read. This time her books stayed untouched and unnoticed where they were. Instead she ran her fingers over the petals of the flowers Souji had sent her. She let herself drift on their scent and turned the idea over in her mind while minutes or hours passed by. Finally she broke her reverie and opened the box again, looking at the earrings in one hand and holding his note in the other. Would it work? Possibly. She had the time for it, and he would understand. She’d make sure he did.

 

Nodding to herself, she snapped the box closed and prepared for bed, already forming a list in her mind. No time for doubts or second guessing. She had plans to make.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 

After weeks of rain and choking humidity, seeing the sun and the sky was a welcome change in Kofu. School classes felt less like an obligation and more like something the students just didn’t want to attend. Souji, on the other hand, took the clear weather with gusto and promptly spent his first rain-free evenings sleeping once his homework was done. He’d wanted to put the episode at the hospital, and the breakdown that had led up to it, as far from his mind as quickly as he could, and by the time he’d gotten his anniversary call from Yukiko, he was almost back to his normal self.

 

That didn’t change the fact that today felt odd. Not in a good way, not in a bad way, not in a way he could identify, but something felt strange in the air when he woke up. And, for it staying in the back of his mind and being easy enough to ignore when his classes required it, it was irritatingly consistent. It wasn’t his clothes, despite wearing a light grey summer shirt that almost matched his hair colour instead of his usual white under his school uniform. It wasn’t school, since he’d coasted through the half-day without a problem. And it wasn’t the people around him: Yuhara had been absent of late, and Yoshiro and Megumi were at practice and attending to family matters, respectively.

 

By the time classes were over, it was still nagging at him. And dismissing it out of hand was becoming impossible, because it reminded him of particular days in Inaba that had grown to be particularly memorable, like when they’d visited Tatsumi Port Island and hit up Club Escapade. Or when he was helping with the Yasogami Culture Festival, before he knew he’d been volunteered for the cross-dressing contest. He tried to brush it off, however, as best he could. Just because he’d had odd feelings before didn’t mean anything was going to happen. He’d managed to convince himself of that by the time he reached the school gates, then stopped when his cell phone went off. He looked down and frowned to himself – who was texting him?

 

 

It was strange. The first legs of her trip had gone so smoothly that she barely remembered them. Making plans with Chie to pick up her homework for the half-day she’d be absent, asking Dojima-san where Souji lived, confirming the address she received and buying the train tickets, and fast-talking her parents so she could slip away from Inaba on her own for a few days had been easy. Or easy enough that she didn’t remember any complications. But the last thirty kilometres, since she heard they were approaching Kofu, seemed to drag along. Earlier that morning she would have attributed it to seeing Souji again, and that was still largely true. But now she also wanted to get off the train so she could stretch her legs – her only break from the sitting or reclining had been a layover in Kyoto that had lasted less than half an hour. She turned to the window again and caught her own reflection, and glanced over her attire for the day. Eschewing her usual black short-sleeved sweater, she chose a grey summer shirt and a sleeveless pullover and summer scarf, both in her usual red. Her barrette had gone on out of habit, and she’d donned a padded, sensible pair of black flats. If they had the time, she wanted to see more of Kofu, and Souji was bound to know a few interesting places.

 

The train finally pulled into the station and she wordlessly stepped into the aisle, got her bags, and slipped off the train into the Saturday crowds of Kofu’s train station. She pushed her way to the edge of the platform for a little room and slipped her phone out to see if Rise had returned her texts – she knew she wouldn’t be able to find her way around Kofu as well without some help. The newest message said ‘ _Look to the right :D’_ , and when she did she saw her friend waving happily and making her way over.

 

“Welcome to Kofu, Yukiko-senpai!” Rise told her with a quick hug, bypassing the usual bow that Yukiko was about to give. The older girl was a little surprised by the act, but instinctively returned it. “It’s wonderful to see you again!”

 

“You too, Rise-chan. You’ve been well?”

 

Rise broke off the hug and stepped back a few paces, nodding happily. “Yep, great as always.”

 

“Thank you so much for meeting me.” Yukiko told the starlet, trying to stretch the lethargy of a train ride across the country out of her limbs. “I hope this doesn’t interrupt anything you had planned already.”

 

Rise brushed it off, picking up Yukiko’s other bag and walking them toward the train platform exit. “Nothing that can’t wait. I mean, I’ll be busy in a few weeks, and Inoue hasn’t been off the phone in days, but I can take the time to see a friend, no problem.”

 

Yukiko bowed a little at her words. “Thank you. How have you been since Inaba?”

 

“Great!” Rise gushed. “Kofu’s got a different feel to it than Tokyo, still the same crowds and fans, but a lot less business people and corporations everyone, you know? It’s easier working here, the people are great, and even the concert venues are pretty big. And of course Senpai’s here to help me out when I need it!”

 

Yukiko went quiet as they left the train station and found a table and set of chairs to sit at while Rise popped open her cell phone with a quick “excuse me” and started stabbing at buttons. There was never any doubt in Yukiko’s mind about Souji’s relationship with Rise; he’d made it clear that they were friends. And he’d said that Rise had helped him pick out the anniversary gift he’d sent (packed away in her luggage – she’d made sure to bring them), so it only made sense that Rise’s feelings for him were platonic. But it was hard to tell sometimes…

 

Rise looked up and seemed to pick up on her expression. Or perhaps had been expecting the subject to come up, because she shook her head once she was done sending whatever message she’d composed. “It’s not like that, Yukiko-senpai. Senpai’s a great support and a one-of-a-kind friend, but that’s all we are.” There was no hesitation in her voice. “You and him belong together, and I’m not going to get in the way of that.”

 

That was a relief. And yet Yukiko hadn’t expected Rise to be so candid on the matter. “I thought you cared for him? Back in Inaba, you seemed very attached to him.”

 

Rise chuckled and looked away with a wistful smile, thoughtful and perhaps a little sad, but content. “I think we all were, in our own way. Senpai’s a real catch, you know? Smart and handsome and a great listener, and he always helped us, no matter what.” She shook her head. “But he chose you, and I’m alright with that. You two deserve each other.”

 

Yukiko smiled and nodded in response, a little touched by Rise’s words and glad to have the matter clear between them. “Thank you for that, then. For your honesty.”

 

Rise’s smile was happier and brighter than before, back to its usual 30,000 watts. “Sure. I know I came on strong before, but we’re just friends. And the same goes for you and me, right?”

 

“Of course.” Yukiko stifled a yawn and stretched her arms in front of her before looking at Rise again. “You’ve been with him often since you came here?”

 

“Yep! Good times and a few bad ones, but it’s good to be around people you know and trust.”

 

“How is he?”

 

Rise shrugged and shook her head. “I’m not sure. He talked about his family a while ago and said things were sticky, but he never really got into the details. Aside from that, Senpai’s just like he always was. And he still doesn’t talk about himself much, you know?”

 

“We’ve been discussing his family over the last few days,” Yukiko offered a little hesitantly. “It seems to be a sore spot for him. And even Dojima-san and Nanako-chan can’t offer much information on the matter.”

 

“Sometimes it seems like he’s so used to helping us with our problems that he doesn’t take time to deal with his own,” Rise suggested. “But who knows? Senpai’s a mystery in that sense. Is that why you’re here though? To talk to his parents?”

 

“No,” was Yukiko’s immediate response. “We argued over some things that he feels he needs to keep to himself, and I wanted to get a clearer answer from him. So here I am. But I wouldn’t talk to his parents without talking to him first – he’d never trust me again if I did, especially with it being such a sensitive issue for him.”

 

“So you came all this way to talk to him face to face?” Rise looked at her a little oddly.

 

Yukiko nodded firmly. “Of course. We can’t make a relationship work if we don’t talk to each other, can we?”

 

Rise stared at her for a moment, then started giggling to herself. “That’s actually kinda romantic, Yukiko-senpai.”

 

That caught Yukiko a little off guard, but she smiled to herself anyway. “You think so?”

 

Rise nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Normally when the guy’s moody, he’ll either take it out on someone and cause problems, or just keep it bottled up. And here you are to help Senpai. That’s gutsy and pretty impressive.”

 

“You don’t think it’s a little, well, pushy?” Yukiko ventured.

 

“Nope,” Rise replied cheerily. “Well, sorta. Some guys might not like the attention, might see it as interference, but so what? You’re part of this relationship too, like you said, so of course you should act on what you feel, right?” It did make sense, when Rise put it that way. “And besides,” the starlet added with a conspiratorial smile, “it’s not like we’re normal people, after everything we’ve gone through. So we can bend the rules a little. And who cares about being ‘normal’ anyway?” Yukiko smiled her agreement, and Rise suddenly looked over her senpai’s shoulder and grinned. “Took him long enough,” she told her friend before standing up.

 

Took who long enough? “What do you mean?”

 

Rise winked mischievously. “Your guy, of course. Hey, Senpai! Hey!”

 

Yukiko pulled back, a little surprised but turned to meet the approaching, shocked eyes of Seta Souji.

 

And he seemed as surprised by her being there as she was to see him appear as if from out of nowhere. “This is why you texted me, Rise?”

 

“Yep! I didn’t know if Yukiko-senpai had made arrangements yet, so I thought ahead a little.” She winked once, then grabbed her own bags and stepped back from the table. “Well, my work’s done, so have fun you two!”

 

She disappeared into the crowd. Or maybe Yukiko just stopped paying attention, but she trembled a little at being this close to her boyfriend. She was always a mess when he was near her. Shivers and trembles, running hot and cold, and a rich happiness singing in her marrow. She wanted to rush up and hug him, but also stay there and watch him, near-perfect in grey and black, for as long as she could. And it seemed like he wasn’t immune to her presence either – he hadn’t moved since Rise left, and just watched her and no one else.

 

He was the one to break the moment, however. “I’m glad to see you,” he began slowly, picking his words carefully and looking flabbergasted. “But I would have met you here if I’d known you were coming.”

 

He was even cuter when he was flustered. Maybe she could play that up? “I know,” she answered softly, rising to her feet and taking a few steps forward while keeping her expression as calm as she could. “It was sort of a last-minute decision.”

 

“I see. So, what inspired this decision?”

 

It came to her in an instant, and she couldn’t help it. He looked off-balance just seeing her, and she felt like it was something he’d do. It was just too good an opportunity. She choked backed her reactions to his proximity, stepped up to him and cocked her head to one side, working to keep her face straight. “I thought this would be a good time keep my promise.”

 

It gave him a place to start, at least. Something to respond to, and it showed when his face relaxed a little. “Which promise is that?”

 

“Back in Inaba, when you were getting ready to leave, I said that I was coming with you. Remember?”

 

He looked unsure for a moment, then his eyes slowly widened in horrified realization. And his normally pale complexion went more white than she’d ever seen it before. Holding her face steady became monumentally difficult, but she managed. “You… you said you were kidding about that,” he replied finally.

 

She nodded soberly and looked up at him expectantly. “And I was kidding when I said that.”

 

He looked immediately perplexed, like he was suddenly asked the square root of 51,397. She could see his mind working furiously, trying to come to terms with her presence and putting together an answer, but in the end, all he said was “Oh. I see.”

 

Her restraint snapped. She doubled over and burst out laughing, one arm across her stomach and the other hand raised to her mouth to try and hold back her mirth. She tried to pull herself together, but when she looked up and saw him, still puzzled and without any idea of what to say, she laughed even harder. “Y-you should… see… your face!” she told him between laughs and gasps.

 

She was too busy laughing to see him, but after a few moments she felt him move closer and gently prop her up. His arms surrounded her, one supporting her shoulder and the other wrapping around to lightly stroke her back. She reined herself in enough to hear him say “You’re such a brat,” under his breath, a wry smile meeting her as she looked up and sending her into giggles again. “It wasn’t _that_ funny.”

 

“Sure it was!” she protested through her mirth.

 

He stared at her, a little bemused, before losing his tense looks and chuckling along with her. “That was a good one though. Excellently delivered, and you really had me going.”

 

“I learned from the best,” she replied, finally coming under control but with a lively grin on her face. Souji shook his head and held his hands out to take her bags. “You don’t have to do that.” He didn’t answer, just crooked his fingers a few times, and she handed over one of the two she’d brought with her.

 

“Are you going to be in town long?” he inquired, shouldering her effects along with his own book bag.

 

“Until tomorrow afternoon. I thought we could spend some time together.”

 

He nodded with a smile, matching her own. “That sounds great. In that case, we deserve a little more than a reunion at the train station,” he told her, and nodded down one street. “I can think of a more comfortable place than this. Come on.” And without another word, he led her on to the crowded sidewalk.

 

“Where are we going?” she inquired as she matched him stride for stride.

 

He chuckled and tossed her a sideways glance. “That would be telling, and I can have a few surprises as well, no?”

 

She met his gaze with a small but honest smile of her own. “Fair enough. I trust your judgment.”

 

They made small talk, both deliberately avoiding the obvious question about why Yukiko was there, as they made their way to Souji’s surprise. And it was a fair way from the train station – Yukiko looked at her watch when he told her “Just around the corner,” and was surprised to see that they’d killed more than half an hour already. But that thought passed when she saw the sign ahead, their destination coming into view.

 

“Well?” Souji asked, smiling. “How’s this?” Kofu Central Aquarium. The crowds were light given the time of day, but there were still groups to be seen, chatting or eating or pointing at the various pools and exhibits.

 

It had been years since she’d been to an aquarium, and the trips she’d taken to the beach in recent years hadn’t been to see the aquatic flora and fauna. “Yes,” she replied with an anticipatory smile. “Yes, this will be fun.”

 

He insisted on paying the entrance fee for both of them, by virtue of getting his wallet out faster than she did hers, and they went to the first exhibit, a large pool with dolphins circling with their trainers and a tiered seating area across from them. She became fascinated with the fish, admiring their grace and smooth movements. She heard Souji rustling around next to her after a few minutes, but didn’t think of it until he rested against the railing next to her and reached over, slipping his right hand into her left. But what surprised her, broke her interest in the fish, was that he’d laced his fingers with hers, meeting her palm to palm, and she never felt any leather. A glance down confirmed what her skin told her – he’d pocketed his gloves for her, his left hand curled in a loose fist and held close to his torso. She realized then how much she’d missed the touch of his skin. “Thank you,” she whispered, genuinely touched by the gesture. He smiled and nodded, but said nothing.

 

They took their time as they made their way through the various different exhibits, hand in hand and stopping to discuss what they knew from their educations about marine life. And, to the surprise of neither, their knowledge was almost completely matched on the topic. From manta rays and starfish to coral formations and the uses of kelp, whale migratory patterns to depth and pressure preferences of aquatic life, they explored whatever information was presented to them on the tablets at each display. They had just passed the stream system where the oldest koi in the city were housed when he asked if she was hungry. She nodded, and they made their way to the food vendors and chatted idly as they waited in line.

 

“Udon?” he offered when it was their turn. The menu was broad though still selective. She didn’t see many meat dishes to choose from, and that made sense – one didn’t want to promote eating animals in an aquarium, after all.

 

She nodded, a smile that bordered on impish turning her lips up. “Yes, and this time keep your appetite to yourself.”

 

He looked puzzled for only a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “Still won’t let me live that down huh?”

 

“It was some very good fried tofu,” she replied, taking the offered dish. He took a bowl of ramen and paid for them both, and they sat on a nearby bench to enjoy their lunch. Yukiko savoured her dish, tasty and filling after her train ride, but not so much that she’d be full for dinner. She still hadn’t brought up the matter of lodging, but that could wait a little longer. She glanced over at Souji, noticing how much he was enjoying the ramen he’d chosen, and also noticing the hard-boiled egg that was sitting innocently at the bottom of his bowl.

 

It was out of character, but she was thriving on the environment. Seeing Souji, being in Kofu and away from home, even for a short time, and soaking in the surroundings of the aquarium from the people to the fish was loosening her up. She felt free, impulsive, and just a little naughty, and thus didn’t bother stopping herself – she slipped her chopsticks past his, snared his egg, and plopped it in her mouth before he could stop her.

 

She couldn’t help chuckling around her hard-won bounty, and he went from surprised to calculating in a heartbeat. He smiled back, but his eyes narrowed and she felt like the only thing saving her from retribution was that he was still holding a bowl half filled with noodles and hot broth. “You,” he growled through his bland smirk, “are such a brat.”

 

“That makes us even, right?” She looked up at him innocently, and it didn’t change his expression in the least.

 

“For now,” he promised quietly. “Give it time though.”

 

She liked the dark light glinting in his eyes – it sent a shiver through her that was anything but unwelcome. “Promise?”

 

“Very much so.”

 

She couldn’t think of a witty repartee, so she turned back to her own food, smiling to herself when she noticed he was watching her chopsticks and his own food much more closely. But the rest of their lunch passed uneventfully, and they disposed of the bowls before going into the underground tunnels and viewing the massive aquarium displays.

 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, leaning against the railing watching the schools of brightly-coloured koi and jikin and ranchu flit and flutter by, the gliding of the manta rays and slow-yet-graceful lumbering of the whale sharks. And while she stood transfixed, Souji had shuffled over and wrapped an arm around her back, resting his hand on her waist. When she first met him, she might have been embarrassed about such a display of affection in a public place. This time, she just scooted closer and leaned against him, letting out a small sigh of comfort and happiness.

 

“I envy them sometimes,” he told her idly, like he was somewhere else. The illuminated tank and diffused light in the water cast across his face and caught in his eyes. It gave his features and hair an unusual, almost otherworldly glow. Different from when he summoned his Personas in the TV world. This was calmer, more tranquil and at peace, and it washed over her slowly like fatigue. For a moment, she wanted to close her eyes and sleep against him. “Life seems so much simpler for them,” he continued, heedless of her. “And the simplicity doesn’t take away from their beauty.”

 

She doubted he was only talking about the fish, and shook off her reverie. “Complex things have their beauty as well,” Yukiko remarked. “Especially with the right people and in the right places.”

 

She expected him to continue on that line of thought, but he went silent, absorbed in the fish. “What did you come here for?” he asked finally, cocking his head curiously and looking at her sideways. “I would have made plans if I knew you were coming. Not that I mind the surprise, but still.”

 

She sighed and squared her shoulders, still leaning over the railing. She was having a wonderful time and didn’t want it to end, but this was why she’d come across the country. And they had to face the bad times as they came. Or at least learn to deal with them, and now was as good a time as any. “I wanted to discuss what we talked about on the phone last time,” she told him finally. “Without any interruptions. I want to know what’s going on.”

 

Souji sighed and pulled back a little. Yukiko missed the contact and felt the mood die away, but couldn’t help it – they had to work this out. “You mean about my parents,” he supplied unnecessarily. “Why do you want to know this badly? I’m not trying to be rude, but it’s more my business than it is yours. And it’s not that important in the long run.”

 

“You don’t talk about it. About them. I’m curious.” She kept that she’d talked to Dojima-san and Nanako-chan to herself. At least for now.

 

“There’s nothing to say that I haven’t said already. They’re workaholics who live their own lives, and I’m busy living mine. We used to work,” he paused, seeming to search for the right word, “…passably well together, before I came to Inaba. And now we tolerate each other enough that we leave each other alone.”

 

“It didn’t sound like that on the phone,” Yukiko pointed out. “You seemed to be arguing with your father.” He didn’t answer, but his expression soured. “So what about them? What are they like? Give me some details.”

 

“You can’t let it go with what I’ve told you already?” His tone was beginning to deepen, darken with an angry undercurrent.

 

She didn’t let it intimidate her. “I don’t know anything about them,” she protested quietly, aware of the people around them. “You give me facts without context. You say they aren’t important or significant to you, but I don’t know why you say that.” She turned to him, trying not to come across as needy, but asking with her eyes as much as her words. “Help me understand what’s going on.”

 

He looked at her, stoic and stone-faced in the face of her pleas, for a few long moments before he grunted “Come on, let’s go,” to her and started walking for the exit.

 

Her softness died under the rampage of her anger, rushing up at his words. She felt the hot taste of fury in her mouth, watching him walk away again without the courtesy of answering her question, or even addressing the matter as a whole. “Don’t brush me off,” she growled lowly as she followed right behind him.

 

“I’m not,” he shot back shortly. “But there are better places for this discussion.” They made their way out of the aquarium, turned the corner at the street and entered a small park. He navigated their way through the people and pointed at a park bench off the main paths, and they headed toward it silently. No holding hands, no cuddling as they walked. Both were treating the matter seriously, and she worked to keep an open mind on the subject. He sat on one side and she perched on the other, looking at him expectantly and holding her anger in reserve for now. “My father’s a corporate climber,” he told her simply. “Always has been. For as long as I can remember, he’s lived for his work. And I don’t mean that he just puts in long hours and is otherwise a well-rounded and sociable person. I mean he saves all his sociability, all his energy and time for work but puts deadlines aside for his family. I mean that we’ve never really had a heart-to-heart discussion about anything before, because all he understands is corporate politics. My mother’s the same way. All they can talk about is work. And if it isn’t work, then it’s my grades, or which university I’ve applied for and who they might know who can help me get there. I’m not trying to sound selfish, but they’ve never taken time out of their lives for me, or even each other. No vacations that weren’t business-related, no time off for anniversaries, nothing.”

 

“People aren’t that one-dimensional,” she told him quietly. “You and I know that. We’ve seen it.”

 

“We saw the struggles of people who knew there was something wrong,” Souji countered as calmly as he could. “Chie, Yosuke, Rise, all of them were conflicted at the core and didn’t know how to handle it. And it’s understandable – they had some things that needed to come out into the open. My parents aren’t like that. At all. There’s no problem with them, no conflict because they don’t see anything wrong with how things are. I spent my first weeks here without ever having a discussion with them about how things were in Inaba.”

 

“That doesn’t bother you?”

 

“No.” He said it calmly, without raising his voice, but with a finality that was hard for her to accept. “They have their lives, I have mine. And nary the two shall meet.”

 

She couldn’t help herself. He sounded jaded but accepting. He seemed to believe that things weren’t going to get better, and yet he was alright with it. She wouldn’t say it, but he sounded exactly like what he’d just described – distant from his family and not feeling conflicted about it. His views couldn’t be that simple, that final. “You don’t want to mend things? They’re your parents.”

 

“And I’m their son,” he shot back, folding his hands, gloved again during their walk from the aquarium, in front of him. “That didn’t stop them.” He sighed, looking a little frustrated, though whether it was at her persistence or the topic itself, she couldn’t tell. “It’s not a simple situation, Yukiko. I spent my childhood on the move, going from one city to the next because of someone’s work. Making friends was hard, putting down roots was pointless, and every time I tried to connect with them, I was brushed off or put to the side so someone could put in more hours at the office. All I ever got for my efforts was more encouragement to keep my grades up. They weren’t parents – they just paid the bills. And there’s nothing I can do about that.”

 

“Is it really that bad?”

 

He shook his head and sent an unusually grim stare at her. “It’s bad enough that I don’t want to think about it more than I absolutely have to. It’s not worth it.” He cocked his head to the side, looking grimly serious but inquisitive now. “But what about you? Why did you come here? I don’t want you involved with my parents; it’s enough of a mess as it is.”

 

She stared back at him, never budging. “Because we’re together now, and that means us working through problems together, no matter what they are. If you don’t want me to meet them, then I won’t. I came here for you, to help you, and I’ll respect that. But you can’t keep doing this alone.”

 

For several long moments, the world fell away and they saw only each other. Not the city, not the city or the people around them, but the spirit and steel defiance in the person they cared for the most.

 

Souji broke contact first and sighed heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “Seems we have some work to do. But enough of that for now. Have you got a place to stay?”

 

“Are there any hotels nearby?”

 

Souji looked at her with a mix of disbelief and borderline frustration. “You’re serious? I thought you would’ve talked to Rise about that; she’d probably love to have you over.”

 

Yukiko shook her head. “Rise said she would be going on tour soon, so she’ll be busy. And I don’t know where she lives.” Souji stared at her. Then the edges of his eyes crinkled and his gaze became a little bit distant. “I brought my own money,” she told him finally. “I can look after myself if you’re busy. We can continue this tomorrow.”

 

He didn’t respond right away, but finally heaved a heavy sigh. “This is a bad idea,” he said more to himself than to her before leaning down to grab his book bag. “Come on, let’s go.” He started down the path, back the way they came.

 

Yukiko was startled for a moment at his sudden shift in demeanour, but grabbed her own effects and followed him, asking “Where are we going?” when she caught up.

 

“There’s no sense in you wasting money on hotels around here,” he replied with the expression of a chunk of rock. “Besides, I don’t know of very many that have a good reputation. So you may as well stay at my place for the night.”

 

That caught her off guard, enough that she chose her next words more carefully. “Why? I thought you didn’t want me meeting your parents.”

 

“I don’t,” he responded shortly. “But my father’s in the U.S., and my mother’s been putting in longer hours than usual at work. It’s just for one night, so hopefully nothing goes sideways.”

 

“And if she does come home?”

 

He slowed down for a moment, then shrugged. “Then we deal with it as it comes.”

 

“If you’re worried that it might be a problem…” she began.

 

“I’m not,” he replied immediately, stopping and turning to face her. “I’m glad you’re here, Yukiko. Honestly. Whatever inconveniences that might crop up are small matters compared to that. Besides, my house isn’t much, but I can at least offer you a clean futon and a decent meal.”

 

She let his words sink in, then nodded. “Thank you.”

 

“That’s what guys do for their girlfriends, isn’t it?” he asked with a shrug. Neither answered the question since neither actually knew, but they turned back down the road and made small talk until they reached his apartment complex. Souji opened the door first to check the landing pad for shoes, then stepped in and held the door open for her. Once she was in, he untied and shucked his shoes, donned his house slippers and muttered “I’m home” to the empty residence. Yukiko, operating on manners ingrained into her since before she could remember, told him “sorry for intruding” with a short bow before stepping in and removing her shoes. Souji hung up his jacket and book bag before turning to smile at the formality and pass her a set of house slippers. Then he snapped on the lights. “Well, it’s not much, but welcome to the Seta residence.”

 

She looked around as she put on the slippers, and took in where he lived for the first time. The sight that greeted her put her on her guard.

 

It wasn’t that the apartment was sterile or devoid of personality. A small couch and nearby table were paired with a large reading lamp and several holders full of books, pens and pencils and coloured sticky notes for marking one’s place carefully set in place nearby. The kitchen was clean and had all the markings of regular use, from the cook books and paper notes stuffed into another book holder next to the fridge to the worn knife handles on the block on the counter to the western-style slow cooker that had filled the house with a delicious aroma. A couch and table near the TV were home to a scattering of paper and folders and pens, some with exploded tips, some still in clear plastic wrap, some left where their user had dropped them. She could see a hallway, presumably leading to the bedrooms, a balcony behind a set of sliding doors, and another couch and table facing the TV from a different angle, and that set looked immaculate. She had to wonder if it was because Souji’s parents were selectively tidy, or if that couch and table had just never been used.

 

What set her off of the abode was how segmented things felt. Souji’s touch was evident as soon as she walked through the door, but only around one of the couches and in the kitchen: there was no crossover. She couldn’t see any influence of his parents on his part of the dwelling, and vise-versa. There were no framed photos on the walls or the tables where she assumed his parents worked. No potted plants or CD racks to show any personal taste. Even the calendar hanging in the kitchen, an apparent middle ground in the home, was sporadically filled. One week was so filled with writing that she had to wonder if the writer was planning their week or using it as a notepad, and the rest was untouched. The whole place felt like she was watching three separate Petri dishes on the same table in science class, so much so that even the lights seemed sterile, lighting the rooms and casting sharp, clean shadows. There was no softness to the place. There was none of the warmth and welcoming vibe she knew so well from Souji. Nor did the home feel critical and inquisitive, like she was an intruder or an unwelcome guest to be watched. It was just a place to rest before moving on. No personal touches, no invested work, and it felt miles from what she expected her boyfriend’s home to be like, regardless of what he’d told her about his family at the time.

 

She thought she understood what his family was like. Seeing their house, the place where they were supposed to be able to take the masks off, so barren of intimacy made her realize how off the mark she’d been.

 

“How long have you lived here?” she asked without noticing.

 

“Since April,” he told her calmly, turning to check on dinner. It looked like some sort of vegetable stew. “My parents got here before I did, but I don’t know how long.”

 

“You said they were overseas when you were in Inaba?”

 

He nodded before adding some salt and a few other spices. A pinch of this, a dash of that. She admired how he seemed to know what he was doing without needing measuring spoons or directions. “In the United States. I don’t know where they stayed while there.” He pulled back from the slow-cooker for a moment before giving a self-deprecating chuckle. “It’s hard to even remember where we lived before then. Everything’s a blur now.” He gave a shrug, talking more to himself than to her now. “Not sure if it would have mattered though; it all feels the same.”

 

“I… I see. I’m not sure what to say,” she told him finally, moving beyond the landing and sinking into his couch, shuffling to get comfortable and unable to resist looking at the weathered spines of the books before her.

 

He was quiet for a few minutes while he checked dinner and made a few adjustments. “There’s not much anyone can say. It’s not that it was terrible,” he clarified finally. “It’s more that it just… was. My parents have always been working, and that work is central to their lives.” He nodded toward the living room, and, more specifically, the TV. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard them watch a movie before, alone or together. News and stock reports, business channels, weather forecasts, traffic, that sort of thing.” He chuckled, a drab, humourless sound that sank into the grey walls around them. “I don’t even know if we have subscriptions for the movie channels.”

 

“Where does the distance come from?” she asked finally, meeting his eyes. “Nanako-chan and Dojima-san were distant, but nothing like this. Why are you and your parents…” Her words failed her, and she just looked at Souji to communicate the rest.

 

He gave a dry smirk, but came out of the kitchen and sat next to her, adjusting to the give of the cushions far easier than she had. “Much as I might make it sound, I don’t want you to think that my parents are bad people. Not in the classical sense. I’ve never been hit or starved, ever. It’s just that they have different priorities from Dojima and Nanako. And, for that matter, you and your parents. You might get angry and disagree with your parents, might have fights and not talk to each other, but that doesn’t change the fact that if you need them, your family will drop everything to help. My parents…” He grunted and looked away from her; the set of his eyes told her he was remembering something. And it wasn’t a happy memory. “Or at least my father, need overarching circumstances to put work aside for me. I can’t really speak for my mother because I’ve never really needed her in that respect.”

 

“That’s horrible.”

 

He sighed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “No, that’s just how they are. Like I said, they have different priorities. My parents live for their careers, so that’s what they want, where they want to go.” He gave a sarcastic smirk. “I’m not even sure that they wanted children, so neither really worked me into their schedules. They’re just not family-oriented. And Dojima’s said that my mother used to sing for me when I was younger. So I guess they tried. It just didn’t last.”

 

Perhaps that’s where he got his musical talent from. “Did she sing to you?” Yukiko asked.

 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I can remember someone singing something, but I don’t know the song, or if it was even my mother, for that matter.” Souji shook his head. “But none of that changes the fact that the word ‘family’ means something very different for me than it does for you and the others.”

 

She didn’t say anything. What could she say? There weren’t words for a situation this alien, this strange to her. “I see,” was her eventual response.

 

All she got was a shake of his head and a chuckle. “No, you don’t. Not at the core, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just not something that I can explain. And there’s no point in showing you.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because it’s transitory,” he told her, turning to look her in the eye. “In a few months I’ll be done with high school, and I’ll be back in Inaba. I’ll do my studying there, find a way to write the entrance exams, and then I’ll be off to university. And my parents won’t matter by then.” He was serious; she could see it in his eyes. No anger or bitterness. Just cold, lifeless fact.

 

Part of her wanted to argue that it did matter, that he couldn’t just leave his life behind. But the other parts of her, the parts that had seen where he was from, were beginning to understand, finally, just how little it would help. He was determined to cut away from his past and live his own life. And she didn’t know if she could call it running; it seemed more like he’d accepted his upbringing and childhood, already made his peace and come to terms with how things were, and was simply moving beyond it. “I’ll be glad to see you back home then,” she told him, letting the subject shift.

 

He smiled, a gleam of genuine light in the artificiality of his home. “Me too. But dinner’s ready. You can tell me what’s going on there.”

 

And so, over a savoury vegetable stew with vinaigrette sauce, warm dipping bread and Souji’s hand-mixed virgin (it never occurred to her precisely why he hadn’t used alcohol – they were alone, after all) fruit cocktails, she told him what had been happening in Inaba in his absence. He chuckled when she told him about Kanji and Naoto, explaining his advice session with her childhood friend and how he was glad Kanji was at least trying. He grew silent when she talked about Nanako, but gave a heartfelt laugh when she mentioned how she’d apparently become his cousin’s ‘Big Sis’. He asked how Yosuke and Chie and Teddie were doing. Then the topic shifted to her own work, and he listened closely as she explained the goings on of the Inn, how she’d felt more in tune with the people around her, how her parents were slowly letting her take on more and more responsibility, how capable it made her feel when she handled their tasks with grace. She started to think he was just humouring her, sitting there and listening, but his comments were always on the mark, and she realized he was enjoying every minute of their discussions.

 

She turned the subject back to him, and scooped up a second bowl of the stew (a rarity for her – she usually only had one plate of anything at home) while he talked about his studies and classes, told her about Rise’s time in Kofu and recent sold-out concerts. He described his two friends, Takenaka Megumi and Toyama Yoshiro, to her briefly, but went into much more detail when she told him it was the first time she’d ever heard those names. “I’m sure I mentioned them before,” he said with a thoughtful frown.

 

“Not that I can remember,” was her reply. He described them both, how they’d met and established an easy friendship. How they’d stuck with him despite his reticence about his past. And how Megumi had given him the advice that had led to the note that had accompanied her earrings (still in her travel bags. She’d have to bring them up when she had the chance).

 

And by the time he was done his own stories, she’d put away more food than she thought she could. It was even better than his creations during his visit to Inaba, and he chuckled when she told him as much. “I’ll give you some pointers when I come back,” he promised. “Can’t have you going to university without being able to at least cook for yourself.”

 

Her body was still humming on the buzz of his food and drinks, so she took his comments well. “You don’t mind?”

 

“Of course not. We’ll make a day of it.”

 

She was enjoying their time together too much to reply with words. Instead she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips, and the resulting smile from them both said everything they needed to.

 

“Let’s take this elsewhere,” he told her after their conversation topics were exhausted. He took their bowls and cutlery to the kitchen and washed them before putting them away, “hiding the evidence” as he’d told her, then took her and her bags, an arm around her waist and her leaning against him as they went, down the hallway to his room. They were so into each other’s company that neither noticed that Yukiko’s shoes had been left by the door.

 

His Kofu room was remarkably similar to the one in Inaba, from what she could remember. Admittedly, the times she had spent time in his room with him, her mind had been on other things. There was a clear space in the corner for a futon, a desk covered in books and writing utensils, much the same as the couch and table before. A low reading table and couch, a chest of drawers and a closet on the other side of the room. And yet it too lacked the sense of belonging that she hadn’t noticed his Inaba room possessing. Everything here felt temporary, like he was waiting for the right moment to leave it all behind.

 

Her introspection had left her near the door while he pulled his futon and quilts out and set them up by the wall. She placed her bags on the other side of the door and helped him as much as she could before turning and sitting on it against the wall, right next to him as he rested back as well. They didn’t say anything, but just shuffled next to each other and let the night noise of Kofu surround them, draining out the tension. Yukiko fell into a daze, a state of partial sleep where her thoughts drifted and all she felt was the solid, warm weight next to her. It didn’t seem like anything could reach them there.

 

“I’m home.”

 

The voice was muffled by the door and the distance, but still audible and distinctly feminine. They both stiffened in surprise, Yukiko coming out of her daze while Souji let the mix of a growl and a groan rumble in his chest. He pulled his arm from around her and stood up, making his way to the door before turning and holding up his forefinger. Just a minute. She nodded, and he slid his door open, stepping into the dark hallway.

 

\--

 

He should have been angry. Despite the turbulence of the day, everything was going well with Yukiko. The night had finally gotten quiet, the mood reminding of their shared Christmas evening in Inaba, and he was about to bring up where they were sleeping. And then his mother, against the odds, had come home, and he was reminded of just how large the divide between his family and his life in Inaba really was. It wasn’t pleasant. And yet he wasn’t angry – if anything, there was a cold slither of fear running through him, a fear of what his two worlds colliding might result in. Yukiko could handle it, and of the two parents who could have been there, his mother was by far the less objectionable choice. But that didn’t stop the day’s events from being blown from his mind, leaving an icy, grim void behind.

 

“You’re home late,” Souji remarked as he padded silently down the hallway, meeting his mother as he turned the corner to the main room. She was shedding her coat and slipping out of her shoes. Souji’s eyes lowered to the landing.

 

And fell upon Yukiko’s shoes. He was stunned for a second, then shivered a little with dread. If she looked down, noticed them…

 

“Things wrapped up earlier than I expected,” Izumi replied, slipping out of her work heels and slipping into house slippers without a second thought, taking him in after turning on the main lights. She hadn’t looked down at all, allowing Souji to breathe a little easier. But he looked at the clock in the kitchen and shook his head. Only his parents would call 10:29pm getting away from work ‘early’. “And tomorrow should be lax, if nothing else. What about you?”

 

“I’m fine,” he replied smoothly, making an effort to not sound like he was brushing her off.

 

She paused at the kitchen, looking in at the leftovers of the meal he’d made, and turned back with a pensive look on her face. “You and your father seemed at odds before.”

 

He hadn’t told her about their argument at the hospital. Or anything about that day. Nor had she brought it up, so he’d assumed the topic just never came up between them. Just as well – explaining the details behind a panic attack to someone would have been far more difficult when they cared. “Nothing more than usual,” he replied. “Just a discussion that went the wrong way.”

 

She cocked her head to one side. “You two argue because you’re so alike; I wish you’d work that out.”

 

He had to struggle to keep the cold anger and contempt from his face, and the effort was enormous. Even then, he wasn’t sure he succeeded. “I think he’ll be busy for the next little while,” Souji forced out. “And between his work and the time difference, a family discussion wouldn’t work very well.”

 

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. Souji’d seen it before, and was beginning to wonder what she was thinking and why she didn’t say what was on her mind. Did she not want to talk about it? Or not have the words? It was unusual for him to be stymied by people who were normally so transparent. “Perhaps. But, it’s been a long day, so I’m going to bed.”

 

“Of course,” he moved closer to his couch, freeing up the hallway for her. “Good night.”

 

She flexed her feet as she approached and passed him, but stopped to look at him again. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

 

Better? From what? “Did I seem sick before?”

 

“Not sick,” she clarified with a smile. “More depressed or exhausted. You seemed like you were burning out when it was raining last week, so it’s good to see you up and around.”

 

What could he say to that? Was there anything to say? “It’s been better the past few days,” he offered a little awkwardly. He hadn’t expected her to notice his change in mood like that. They never noticed before, or at least never talked about it. “I think it was from the rain, maybe a change in air pressure.”

 

She nodded, understanding in her eyes, though Souji didn’t know what, precisely, she understood. “Probably. But I’m glad you’re better now. Good night.” And she made her way to her room without another word.

 

Odd conversation. And odder still how close to the mark she was. Souji let out the breath he’d been holding and shook his head, making a point to be more careful around her – it was easy to forget just how observant she could be. He collected Yukiko’s shoes and made his way back to his own room, shutting off the lights and letting his eyes adjust before opening the door.

 

\--

 

After droning out the constant traffic outside, Yukiko listened to the entire conversation with mixed feelings. So that was Seta Izumi, as Nanako had described her. It was the first time she’d heard his mother speak, and to hear her voice, she seemed like someone Yukiko might want to know better. Souji had said she might have sang to him when he was young, and Yukiko could easily imagine how that voice would sound carrying a tune. And yet his mother seemed distant and distracted, perhaps due to coming home at this hour. Even when she was asking him how he was doing, she’d seemed awkward and clipped. Yukiko tried not to judge someone she’d never met on things she hadn’t been witness to, so she shelved that part of her brain, stored the words in her mind for later examination, and instead listened to Souji and his responses. He was restrained, level, and not delving into the conversation more than was necessary. Considering their discussions earlier, that made sense. She waited patiently for him to return after the voices died down, and hoped he wouldn’t clam up or let it sour their day together.

 

She looked at the door when he slipped back in, noticing that his easy smile from the evening had been replaced by a calm, stoic set of the mouth. Not a smirk, not a grimace, just nothing at all. “I was afraid you might start an argument with her,” she noted quietly. “Or does she usually come back home this late?”

 

“It happens. But it’s too late for arguments,” he replied through a yawn. “Besides, my father’s the one I fight the most with. Mother doesn’t get under my skin like he does. Anyway, here’re your shoes.” He held them up before setting them, upside down, beside the door. “Hide the evidence, right?”

 

“Right.” It was strange. Normally she didn’t have a problem talking to Souji about anything. After everything they’d seen and fought together, this should have been simple to deal with. And yet the words weren’t coming. Perhaps there were no words. Or maybe they’d said them already. Either way, she could feel that the mood had shifted. Not to the point of being confrontational, like they’d been in the park outside the aquarium, but not open and happy either. He felt distant, ad she didn’t know if he was keeping her away from him, or himself away from his mother. “I guess we should get some rest,” she volunteered finally. “We’ve both had a long day.”

 

He gave a bleak smile and nodded toward her bags. “Stepping outside won’t work this time, so I’ll stand over here.” He slipped across the room and stood by the window, looking out into the gloom and giving her as much privacy as he could.

 

She was touched by the gesture, but it still felt strange to change in the same room as a boy, even if he was her boyfriend. Blushing, she stripped out of her clothes and slipped into her t-shirt, shorts and red-and-sakura-design yukata as quickly as she could. She cleared her throat when she was done, and he turned to look at her with a strained smile that she could see and feel even through the dim light from outside. “That colour suits you,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I mentioned that in Inaba.”

 

“You didn’t. So thank you.”

 

He nodded before kicking his slippers off and moving the reading table until the end nearly touched the couch. She looked at him curiously before noticing that the futon, while large enough for someone Souji’s size, would have been cramped for both of them, caught between the wall and the desk. She was about to mention it to him when he beat her to the punch. “Get some rest. I’ll show you around tomorrow. And we’ll have fun this time.”

 

“What about you? Where are you going to sleep?” He nodded to the couch and table, and she realized with a frown what he was planning. It was suited for an extended reading session, but not a night of sleep. There would be no support for him if he slept like that. “You’re going to be cramped if you sleep there.”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” he replied around another yawn. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately, so this will be fine.”

 

“This is your house,” she objected quietly. “And we shared a futon in Inaba, remember? This won’t be any different.”

 

“If my mother weren’t home I’d sleep on the couch in the living room,” he pointed out. “But I can’t do that without raising questions. This is easier. Don’t worry, I’ll manage.”

 

“Does she bother you that much?” He didn’t give an answer. “You don’t need to cut yourself off, you know. It’s alright, you know. There’s no need to put yourself through that.” He looked away from her, his face still somber and distant, and she shook her head with a defeated sigh, too tired to push the issue. “You’re going to regret it in the morning,” she warned.

 

All he did was shrug. Stubborn man. “Least of my worries. I’ll stretch before we leave.” He pulled a spare quilt from the closet, wrapped himself up in it, still fully clothed, and got comfortable on his couch/makeshift bed. As comfortable as he could be, anyway – she saw his feet twitch on the table. His neck wouldn’t have any support where he was resting it. But she didn’t say anything as he shifted around until he found the right position. She expected more resistance to the arrangement, but far sooner than she thought possible, he was asleep, his soft breathing almost lost under the noise of the city around them. She shook her head again at his silent stubbornness before she slipped under his quilt and rested down on his futon, both of which smelled freshly washed, and let the shadows soothe her to sleep.

 

Only she couldn’t. She’s lay there for more than twenty minutes before she realized how much more awake she’d become. There was no drifting off, comfortable in the surroundings of Souji’s home. The noise of the traffic outside, steady even at this hour, would normally be white noise, something she could use to drown out everything else. But the harder she tried, the more aware she became. She rolled over to the other side and tried again. Then onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Which left her neck pinched uncomfortably, so she shifted to alleviate it, but twisted her back in the process.

 

Frustrated, she straightened out and stared at the ceiling again, and let her mind wander over the day, trying to put all the pieces together, but that helped even less. The more she tried to structure the information she’d gotten and figure out the ups and downs, the less coherence she could find. Souji’s actions finally made some sense, but then the variable of his mother was added into the equation. What did she think of her? Was Souji right, and both his parents were business-minded career seekers? Had he exaggerated on how little his family communicated? His mother seemed to care about him, enough to notice his shift in moods and express some concern. Was that a new development? She realized she didn’t know his father’s name, despite Nanako-chan having mentioned Izumi-san in Inaba. Souji seemed most at odds with the man, so perhaps that was why he’d never called him by name. What was he like? She growled under her breath – her line of thinking was informative, but it wasn’t helping her sleep. In a disgusted huff, she gave up on her thoughts, pushed herself to her feet and looked for Souji, her night-adapted eyes finding him easily.

 

It almost wasn’t fair how peaceful he looked. He was twisted around on the couch with his shoulder sitting on the arm and his head tilted back, resting where the arm and the back met. She couldn’t see for certain, but she had to guess his hip was on or near the edge of the couch’s frame, and his legs were stretched out on the repositioned table. All in all, he’d be sore in the morning, and she had no idea how he’d fallen asleep in the first place. And yet he had. And she, with the comfortable futon, remained awake and restless.

 

She didn’t know she was moving until she was standing next to the couch, and she lowered herself onto it as carefully as she could. Watching Souji in the dim light, she leaned against the back of the couch and noticed, of course, how much more comfortable it was than the futon. She noticed how Souji’s hair held its natural pale hue, even in the dark. And what surprised her, as she looked at him, was how much younger he seemed in repose. Not that he looked old when he was awake, but she’d never noticed how much of his appearance she credited to his personality. It was different, seeing him vulnerable and at peace, or at least not actively on his guard.

 

She made a decision then. Comfortable as the futon was, she wasn’t getting any sleep there. And if his mother looked in on him in the morning, she’d surely notice her presence. But then, she’d notice something if she saw Souji as he was now, so it hardly mattered. Yukiko slipped off the couch and returned to the futon, retracing her steps easily and picking up the quilt. She padded back to where she was before and lay down next to Souji, the couch cradling her in a cloud-soft hold and immediately putting her at ease. She wrapped herself in the quilt and shuffled over on the couch until she was resting against Souji’s chest. Then she curled up against him, taking in his familiar scent, his slow, steady pulse and breathing, and let her concerns slip away. She was asleep before she realized she was getting tired.

 

And, hours later as dawn broke, Souji cracked an eye open in pain, his neck and shoulders grinding like rusting gears. He tried to move, but noticed an odd weight on his side that wasn’t there when he’d gone to sleep, and the scent of new frost, fresh herbs and black tea in his nose. He looked down to see Yukiko cleaving to him, and couldn’t help smiling despite being every bit as cramped as she said he’d be. The pain didn’t matter as he wrapped an arm around her and revelled in the small sigh he got in return. “Not sure what I did to deserve you, Yukiko,” he whispered, so quietly he barely heard it himself. “But thank you.” And, still cramped and bound for more, he rested back and fell asleep again.

 

 

Sore as Souji would be that morning, Yukiko woke up feeling refreshed and clear-headed. His couch wasn’t any more comfortable for her than it had to have been for him, and yet she barely felt any discomfort. She noticed that Souji had turned awkwardly in the night, which meant she’d ended up laying on top of him and wrapped under an arm she couldn’t remember him moving. It also meant his head was tilted back on the arm of the couch and had even less support than when he’d gone to sleep. He’d definitely be in pain now. She curtailed her sympathy and just soaked in the feeling of him under her, solid and warm and real. Almost twenty minutes passed with her resting on him before he began to stir. First a few shivers, then a change in his breathing and twitching in his limbs, then a distinct shift as he came back to the waking world. And gave a grimaced hiss when he tried to move. She chuckled silently, watching him blearily open his eyes and try to focus on her. “Good morning,” she whispered softly.

 

He tried nodding in response, but groaned as soon as he moved his neck. “Or something like it,” he replied. “You didn’t have to come over here, you know. The futon’s a lot more comfortable than the couch.”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she told him, snuggling a little closer.

 

“I hope it was worth it,” he groused before eyeing her suspiciously. “You don’t seem to be in much pain though.”

 

The scars on her back and hip (her own lasting souvenirs from the TV world) pinched a little, but nothing painful. If anything, she felt better than she had a right to. “You just make for a very good pillow.”

 

He looked sceptically at her cheerful smile, and gave a pained grunt as the couch frame dug into his hip. “Rub it in, why don’t you? No, actually, don’t,” he corrected as soon as her eyes narrowed playfully. She’d been right that sleeping on the couch was a bad idea, and he didn’t need the reminder.

 

“If you’re sure,” she murmured, still resting practically on top of him. Then she grabbed his hand, running her fingers over his scars while searching for his phone and snapping it open to check the time. She was surprised by how late it was – it had been a while since she’d been able to sleep in this much. “I suppose we should get moving,” she murmured. She would stay there all day if it was up to her, but the train back to Inaba left at 3pm, and it was already after 9.

 

“I guess so,” he grumbled, and even when she pushed herself to her feet and stepped over to her overnight bags, he was still moving slowly, carefully, off the couch, and she held out a hand to help him to his feet.

 

He grunted in pain as he pulled himself standing in a single, almost-smooth movement, and she chuckled when he told her “Never doing that again.”

 

“I hope not. I wouldn’t have minded sharing a futon with you, you know,” she told him with a raised eyebrow.

 

“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” he replied shortly as he nudged his table close to where it had been before. “But you’re right, we should get started. I’ll make some breakfast and we’ll get out of here.”

 

“Do you have a place in mind?”

 

“Yep. Another surprise,” he told her when she looked at him hopefully. “But the washroom’s down the hall to the right, if you need to clean up.” She nodded and slipped into the hallway with her bags and opened the door he’d mentioned, leaving him to clean up the room as he wished. The washroom was clean, as any should be, and had the same sense of functionality as the rest of the house – it felt like entering a surgeon’s room in a hospital. The Western-style shower housed several shampoos and conditioners, but when she popped the caps open and sniffed at them curiously, all she could detect was the scent of cleanliness. No fruits, no unique scents, they were just used to get the job done as part of a routine. She sighed as she thought of Souji and how this was where he lived. She understood him better now – if this were all she could talk about when the topic of ‘home’ were addressed, she wouldn’t want to discuss it very much either. She changed and completed her morning rituals, taking care to brush her hair until it shone. She caught a look of herself in the mirror, head tilted to accommodate her brush and comb, and noticed her unadorned ears. She finished tending to her hair and set her barrette in place before she opened the box containing her new earrings and slipped them on, carefully arranging them to be seen. She packed up her things once she was done, and while she’d been careful not to leave anything behind, there was still the scent of her own shampoo, conditioner and body wash lingering in the air. But it would probably be gone before Izumi-san came home. She looked over the washroom once more and made her way to the main living area when she was done.

 

He was busy over the stove making breakfast as she entered the main room, and when he turned to greet her, hands still moving over a simmering pot and a hissing frying pan, he caught sight of her new earrings. His face was sallow and showed the signs of his poor sleep that night, but those pained pinch to his brow slipped away beneath the slow smile he gave her when her saw them. “Thought they’d look good on you,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

 

She felt a little giddy at his words, and decided to capitalize on the feeling. She took a step forward, then pirouetted a full turn, striking an over-the-shoulder smile that pulled a delighted chuckle from her boyfriend. “So you thought about it more than once? Thought about me?”

 

He turned the heat down on breakfast and padded over to her, never breaking eye contact. “Yeah, more than once.” He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance but his smile and narrowed eyes gave him away. “And the thoughts were great, but the reality’s perfect. No question.”

 

“Flatterer.”

 

He shook his head, almost enveloping her in his embrace, and it sunk in just then how much taller and broader he was compared to her. “Not flattery. Just honesty.”

 

She was surprised that he smelled so fresh, distinctly minty, and was about to comment on it when she saw a bottle of mouthwash next to a small cupboard on the counter at the edge of the kitchen. She chuckled at the sight of it, and pointed it out to him when he looked at her curiously. “Ahh. It’s a useful alternative for two people who work ungodly hours like my parents.”

 

He turned then to throw together a breakfast that consisted of miso soup (extra tofu in hers) and omu-rice, and had her mouth watering within minutes. “It’s not going to be much,” he apologized when he’d finished and began serving their dishes. “I’m not at my best when I rush.”

 

“It tastes wonderful,” she assured him between bites, trying to wait until it wouldn’t burn her mouth, but not willing to be patient – it was just too good.

 

He chuckled, eating at a more sedate pace. “Probably, but I try to make it perfect every time.” He watched as she wolfed the food down, and let his own breakfast cool off while he called for a cab to pick them up later. Then calmly put back his food, snapping his chopsticks on hers when she tried to pick at his omu-rice, thinking he wasn’t looking. “Let the food digest,” he told her pleasantly, steering his food away from her and her reach.

 

She tried pouting for sympathy. “You’re not eating yours though.” It was probably the closest she’d ever gotten to a whine since the tofu debacle on the Yasogami roof, and yet all he did was smirk in response.

 

“I’m enjoying it,” he pointed out, making a show of enjoying the meal to the fullest. She sat back against the couch in a huff, trying to look put out, but then he shuffled his omu-rice back over to her side of the table with nary a sound. “It’s better than train station food,” he told her without looking over. “But the cab’s going to be here soon, so we should hurry.”

 

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before taking up her chopsticks again. “Thank you,” she murmured before digging into what was left of his offered breakfast. He chuckled around his soup, but didn’t answer. Once they’d finished, they made short work of the dishes before heading out the door to meet their cab. He made a point of keep his voice low when telling the driver where to go, and soon enough they were off the main roads of Kofu, leaving the concrete jungle for less-busy roads and far more trees. Twenty minutes later they were let out at a large parking lot, and Yukiko looked at the “Welcome!” sign curiously. Shosenkyo, it said. “A forest?” she inquired after he’d paid the driver and led her toward the main area.

 

“A forest with trails, waterfalls, and even a rope bridge,” he supplied. “They also have an art museum here, but I think we’ll visit that when there’s more time.”

 

Yukiko had a passion for museums and old art work – an interest born from living in a ryokan all her life. But she didn’t want to be rushed through it, so she nodded and stepped in beside him, taking in the sights, from the small streams to the Buddha statues in the gardens, the small amphitheatre and themed gift shops to the stone plaques and monuments along the main walkway. And the trees themselves made her feel like she was back home, from the vibrant colours, not yet ready to turn for Autumn, to the lush greenery at their feet. The entire place smelled like soil and leaves, and she could pick out the distinctive trills of birdsong if she listened hard enough.

 

They made their way down one of the main trails, taking in the sights and colours of nature, broken up every now and again by carved stone benches. “It’s beautiful,” she told him, leaning against his side. “Just like the trails on the mountains in Inaba.”

 

“You’ll have to show me a few of those,” he told her as they slowly strode down the paths. “Sounds like a good way to spend the day.”

 

“Chie showed them to me,” she explained. “She uses them for endurance training when the school fitness tests come up. And she’d been going a lot more often lately for her police training.”

 

He chuckled and pulled them both to a stop as they approached a turn, offering a splendid view of a river and waterfall. “That does sound like her.”

 

They continued down the trail, walking close together, and stopped at one of the railings, letting the other people around them pass by more freely. Did they look like a couple? Probably. And she revelled in that feeling. Not having to hide or wonder who would be around to see them. No reputation and family name to uphold, to image to maintain. She could just be herself. “I’ve really enjoyed this,” she told him finally, trying not to dwell on her rapidly-approaching departure time.

 

“I’m glad you visited,” he replied. “It was a surprise, seeing you and Rise there yesterday.”

 

She braced her shoulders a little, preparing herself for what his response could be. “Then you don’t mind why I came here?”

 

His smiled twitched a little, and he looked down. “No. I still don’t want you to have anything to do with my family. But I also needed to learn that this is bigger than just what I want. I hadn’t thought of that before. And I think we worked through it alright, no?”

 

“Well enough,” she offered, inwardly relieved that there wasn’t any lingering resentment or anger. Still, she was pleased with how things had worked out. A few rocky patches, but he’d learned to open up a little, and she saw and understand where he was coming from. “I’m glad we could talk about it like this.”

 

“Me too.” He turned and they continued down the trail, but slipped into a recessed alcove, surrounded by trunks and foliage and a broad canopy that cut out the sunlight above, with a view of the bridge ahead. A small section off the main track with some much-desired privacy.

 

“I’m looking forward to seeing you back in Inaba,” she told him, quieter in the surprising intimacy of the place. Her senses started to sharpen as she tuned into him – her skin grew more sensitive, registering every layer of clothing she wore, and the sounds of the forest were starting to die away in lieu of his voice.

 

He seemed to be feeling the same. He was standing still, perhaps to hold himself in place, his eyes darkened just a little, and his breathing had changed. “So am I. This long-distance relationship thing is pretty over-rated.”

 

“And it would be easier for us to see each other,” she offered as she locked onto the light of his pale hair and eyes. She didn’t look away. Didn’t want to. “No train rides and conflicting schedules.”

 

“We’d still have to work around your parents,” he reminded her quietly, shifting a little in place. “I don’t think your father likes me any more now than he did when I was there.”

 

She smiled to herself and shook her head, a motion that sent her earrings swaying. “I’ll protect you from him. He doesn’t scare me very much.”

 

He chuckled at the shared mental image of her standing down her angry father, maybe with Souji standing discreetly but distinctly behind her. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

 

“You’re worth a little risk,” was her whispered reply.

 

Their surroundings fell away, each aware of their own heartbeat and the unexpected electricity of the moment. They both came to the same conclusion at once, and neither resisted this time.

 

He broke first, but not by much. He reached for her, and she pushed forward the moment she felt his hand on her shoulder. The embrace he pulled her into was tight, rough, with his arms nearly lifting her off the ground. Hers dug into the indent of his sides under his ribs, almost as tight as his did. Neither looked, but the both felt where the other was, and the kiss was everything their affections in Inaba hadn’t been: hard, messy, and a little desperate. Yukiko felt like her whole body was coming alive at once, warm and intense, like she was floating in the pleasure of close contact with her boyfriend. She shivered at the strength he showed her, and pulled herself as close as she could. The full length of his body pressed against hers, every dip and ridge of muscles and scars she knew was under his clothes making her breasts and nipples tingle at the contact. He was hard and warm and just soft enough to be perfect. The world was falling away in a spin around her, leaving her floaty and disconnected. As if he knew it, he brought one up to cradle her head gently, tangling with her hair.

 

Their kiss broke, and she had barely opened her eyes before he caught his breath and kissed her again. She wholeheartedly approved, giving little moans and sighs into him as her arms tightened more. When she’d first met him, she admired his lips for the words they formed, how well they showed the depth of his mind. Had she the presence of thought, she would have berated herself for being so unimaginative – his lips were soft enough to entice her, and firm enough to hold her in place. They were telling her two things. Two things she heard and heeded without a moment’s reservation: _Closer_ and _More_. Her hormones were kicking into gear, and she was enjoying herself too much to object.

 

He was intoxicating. His strength and quiet passion rising to the forefront, his composed features flushed, his controlled, even voice harsh and ragged. She could feel the coiled power in his body, itching to get free, and the thought made her frantic breathing trip. Her hands began to wander, one sinking down to his waist and the other coming around to his front, slipping up his hardened stomach to his chest, resting near his heart. The hand on her hip dipped under her shirt and slowly travelled up her back, cool fingertips on her heated skin sending her into goose bumps She wanted that intensity. That calm voice worn ragged, muscles and stamina pushed to the limit, argent eyes almost black just for her. She pulled back a little and stared into his eyes fearlessly, thrilling in the desire and passion she saw there. Words were meaningless by the. Just noise and birdsong. They communicated through body language, through knowing each other like no one else in their lives. With a saucy little smile and a tilt of her head, she asked him why they’d stopped, and he pulled her closer to resume their kiss–

 

_BEEPBEEPBEEP!! BEEPBEEPBEEP!!_

They broke apart as their phones chimed at the same time, the alarms they’d set going off to give them the time they needed to get to the train station for her departure. They stared at the inanimate objects, just circuitry and plastic and noise, and then at each other as the moment began to die away. “Not yet,” she murmured with closed eyes as she pocketed her phone. He loosened his arms, letting her stand fully on the ground again, but stayed wrapped around her in a comforting embrace. It took several minutes for them both to catch their breath, but he stroked her back gently, careful to avoid stoking the passions that still coursed through them, put on hold for now. She stepped forward and let him envelope her, hiding her face in his shoulder as he whispered “I know.” And what privacy they had was beginning to slip, letting in approaching people and wind in the trees and more reality than either wanted to deal with just then.

 

They both knew it was coming. Another time, when things were more stable and appropriate, they could have bent the rules or simple tossed them to the ground and kept going. But not now. She had her life in Inaba, her responsibilities she’d been born to and decided to shoulder with all her heart. He had his own plans to see through, between family and education to make certain his ambitions were realized. That didn’t make it any easier, especially not since they’d both gotten a taste of what they wanted. But they both sighed and knew that their time together, this little fragment of a dream, was coming to an end. “I guess that’s it then.” She murmured, hating the sound of her voice making it real.

 

“For now,” he assured her quietly, still rubbing her back soothingly. “Just for now. There will be other times.”

 

“But…” Now. I want those times now.

 

He rested his forehead against hers, kissing her lightly, gently, like she was make of fine crystal and on the edge of breaking. Another day she might have felt patronized. But not now. “I know,” he whispered. “And we’ll get there. Soon.”

 

Soon. Yes, soon. “I suppose so,” she replied tonelessly. Then their phones went off again, insisting they attend to reality once more. With a shared sigh and look of resignation, they turned back down the path and headed back toward the main entrance, neither letting go of the other, and neither saying another word.

 

 

No parting between them ever felt right. This was no different. She shouldered her bags, trying to fortify her mind against leaving him, but it didn’t help. For all the wonderful things he’d shown her, from the ups and downs of the past day, she couldn’t help the heavy, subdued feel that was wrapped around her. Pulling her away. And from the look in his eyes, she wasn’t alone in the feeling.

 

She didn’t bother to wait for him this time – she stepped up and hugged him, hard, and felt his arms envelope her in return. It wasn’t a show of affection or displaying their relationship. It was a gesture that said one thing: don’t let go.

 

Both broke apart after a long moment, knowing they didn’t have much time left. But not completely – they each held the other at the forearms, both wanting to be close. And both taking strength from the other’s support. “So, I’ll see you later, right?” she asked in a forced show of levity, moving one hand back to lace her fingers with his.

 

“Definitely.” He murmured. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a faint shiver running through his hands as he held her. “Sorry the days went by so fast. Seems like we didn’t get a lot done, really.”

 

She shook her head, catching his eyes as he watched her earrings sway. “Nothing you could have done about that. Everything happened on pretty short notice.”

 

“Yeah, maybe. But we can pick up from here next time, and you can show me more of Inaba - I’ll be there before Christmas.”

 

“Promise?”

 

He smiled a little, moving the hand she wasn’t holding along her arm, down her side, and rubbing a thumb on the curve of her hip. “Yep. No matter what. I’ll be there.”

 

That made her feel a little better. She leaned closer to his hand and smiled, as much as she could, at him. “Then I’ll be waiting. Don’t be too late.” He returned her smile, gave her one last hug, which she indulged in shamelessly, and then they parted. It was time to go. “Take care.”

 

“I will,” he promised. “Call me when you get back home. Or before then, if you want.”

 

She nodded, then parted from him as the call went up. There was plenty more she wanted to do before she left, but nothing left to say. “Talk to you later,” she told him awkwardly, catching his nod before turning onto the train, shelving her bags, and taking her seat.

 

She waved and stared at her boyfriend through the window until the train shuddered underneath her and started to move. But she didn’t turn away from the window until Kofu was nowhere in sight.

 

 

There she went. As spontaneously as she’d appeared the day before, she was gone again with only memories to tell she’d been there at all. Her voice was still in his ears, her taste on his lips, and he could already feel them getting further and further apart. Him in Kofu, her back to Inaba, and nothing but hundreds of miles between them. He could relate to how she must have felt when he left Inaba back in March, watching the train without any recourse or choice in the matter. Knowing it was happening, wanting to rail against it, and watching it occur anyway without being able to do anything.

 

It sucked. It really sucked. The sentiment was juvenile, he knew, but it best suited how he felt at the moment. He hated the distance between them, the obstacles that made their time together so rare. He loved what time they could steal – her very presence made his life more vibrant and real. But the brevity and rarity of their time together was frustrating, and even when he was back in Inaba, he didn’t know how long things would last. University was coming for both of them, and he doubted they’d end up at the same institution, or even in the same part of the country. Then there was the matter of her father, a topic she’d addressed only long enough for him to know that her parents were still very much on the fence about him. And who knew about his own parents? Would they stay away and let him work his plans as he wished? Probably not, knowing his father. What would happen if they got involved in his life? Were he and Yukiko ready for more challenges on top of this? Could they pull it off?

 

He shook his head, clearing it of his thoughts for the moment. He tried not to think that far down the line. There were trials ahead, but he’d make it through. They’d both make it through, one way or another. They’d gotten this far. Souji sent one last look down the rail line, wistful words pulling from his lips before he squared his shoulders and turned back toward his house.

 

“See you soon, Yukiko.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_December 17, 7:12am_

Much as Shirogane Naoto loved and spoke about her family, namely her grandfather, it was a rare occasion when she invited others to the Shirogane residence. It certainly wasn’t because her family disliked company; her grandfather had regularly told her that he would entertain any guests she felt like having over. And she couldn’t be more proud of him and her own accomplishments, so it wasn’t shame that stayed her hand. Instead it was because there was little she could offer her guests besides her own company, and she knew there would be days where that wouldn’t suffice. And just the thought of bringing her friends over only to have them keep themselves company was rather discourteous. The last resort in that scenario would have been to take them to her room, and that would have felt strange. It wasn’t even that she kept many private objects or memorabilia in her room, but rather it was just someplace that was hers, and she had yet to find anyone she felt comfortable enough around to go that far.

 

Her room was perhaps what others might have expected of her, right down to the desk overflowing with scratch pads and snapped pencils and file folders. Or the bookshelves that were home to literature and sundries on all manner of subjects, overflowing to the point of being messy. Or the geometric-designed throw rug covering a dark hardwood floor, set to line up the seams perfectly, and both fastidiously tidy and free of dust.

 

What might have caught others off guard, had she ever invited anyone to her room before, was the large desk by one of the windows that she’d adapted for her wide variety of pet projects. A large swivel-arm magnifying glass was bolted to one side, peering over the desk that was home to several tool cases and small wrench sets along with a pile of metal gears and mechanical parts, all polished and set in their proper place. Clean though her work space was, it always smelled faintly of gear oil and metal polish. Stacked and folded neatly in a pile on one corner were blueprints for a variety of devices, including an old black-and-white camera, namely an H7128 35mm Ansco Memo model, circa 1929, and a miniature Corliss steam engine. She’d cut her teeth on the antique devices when she’d started helping her grandfather with his case files, and simply never stopped. The schematics of her most recent project, a wind-up 1884 Hanhard pocket watch, rested in the middle of the desk while others were tacked to the wall.

 

Across the room was an occupied futon with a nightstand sitting beside it. The occupant of the futon twitched and rustled in her sleep, pulling from her usual dreamless slumber and soaking in the warmth of her quilts. There was a faint _click_ next to her, and her hand shot out from cover to shut off the alarm. Pale lips pursed and smacked, cobalt eyes fluttered open, and her other slender hand reached up to ruffle messy bangs from her face. Her eyes adjusted to the sight of the alarm clock, and she permitted herself a small smile – two minutes before her alarm. Right on time. It was the weekend, and normally she would have allowed herself the luxury of sleeping in, but today was special.

 

She stretched in place before pushing herself to her feet, donning a morning robe in addition to her still-warm pajamas before she glanced out the window and noted the needle on her outdoor thermometer with a slight grimace. Her winter clothes and under layers would be necessary for the morning’s little sojourn, but the idea both weighed on her shoulders with resignation and sparked a small curl of satisfaction. Much as she tried to play it down around her Grampa, she couldn’t ignore the tight pull across her back and shoulders that her clothes caused these days. She’d need to go on a shopping trip soon, or acquire the services of a tailor, but the cause was the same regardless – she was outgrowing her clothes. Perhaps Yukiko-senpai would be available to assist her.

 

Naoto shucked her pajamas and pulled on her usual dress shirt and slacks, grimacing at the trim fit before brushing her hair back with a small frown. Perhaps a trip to the barber’s was also in order. Her officer’s cap fit on like it always had, that at least wouldn’t require a resizing, and her winter attire was more than sufficient to keep her warm. She took a moment to check her appearance in the full-length mirror before heading to her Grampa’s office to say her good mornings and inform him of her itinerary. He offered her a ride to wherever she was going, but she declined – this was something she wanted to do herself. And so, almost an hour after waking up and two bus rides later, she found herself on the outdoor patio of Junes, swept clean of snow by the workers and the wind.

 

She nodded at several of the employees she’d become acquainted with during her time as part of the team, offered her greetings to a harried Teddie, and resisted the urge to look over the Junes menu at the outdoor food stand – she’d be meeting her grandfather for a morning brunch later. Instead she strode over to the covered table where she’d met the others so many times that her body remembered the steps perfectly. 37 paces from the elevator to the outside doors, 46 across the outdoor patio, 23 to the table. 31 if she stopped for refreshments with a 10% margin on either side in case there were people in her way. She smiled a little at the view, took her usual seat near the end and looked to the head of the table, letting the memories come to the surface.

 

A year had already passed. Sometimes it felt like winter would never come, and other times she was so busy that all it took was a few cases to eat up an entire month. But here it was, expected or not: their one-year anniversary of the day they’d defeated Adachi and Ameno-Sagiri. And it wouldn’t do to not observe the day and reflect a little.

 

She leaned back on the bench and let the Junes jangle and the constant murmur of the crowds pull her mind beyond the present. This was where it all began. This was their ‘secret headquarters’, where their efforts continued no matter what stood in their way. It was here that they’d met and planned their strategies, discovered the nature of the mystery that had kept her stumped for weeks. She had to give them credit: for a group of students with no deductive background, they’d made remarkable progress on their own. To be fair, the idea of throwing people into the TV so their repressed feelings would manifest to kill them was simply too ludicrous to entertain, even when Rise-san and Yukiko-senpai had drunkenly revealed as much and Yosuke-senpai had been painfully obvious in his denials. Still, it irked her detective intuitions to be left out of the loop.

 

It also irked the part of her that tried to be a friend to them, to Senpai and Nanako-chan and the others. She was trying, and she knew she’d made progress, and yet she still felt that her social graces were woefully inadequate. And every time she thought about where the distance came from, she always concluded that it was because of how late she joined their group and how little of them she’d experienced before the end. They’d seen each other’s Shadows, fought beside their friends for a common goal, and while they’d accepted her more easily than she could have imagined, there were days where she felt awkward, trying to integrate into a group already stable and bound together. They’d seen each other grow, and perhaps that was where she’d fallen behind – how could she measure her progress against those who’d already accomplished what she set out to achieve?

 

And had she progressed? She believed she had. No matter her occasional doubts, she kept in regular contact with Senpai and the others. She’d worked to be more open with the people around her, professionally and personally. She was trying, and Senpai had told her that sometimes taking that step was an accomplishment by itself. Like refusing to step back when events conspired against her, showing progress in the face of adversity rather than bowing in submission or changing her course because what awaited her would be difficult.

 

She pulled back from the memories and opened her eyes, staring at the inside of the canopy over the table pensively. She still had a ways to go, but she could admit that to herself now. She’d come a long way since those first days in Inaba, and even before when she saw activities like sneaking out to dance clubs and being absent from class for the sake of food as pointless frivolities. She’d keep going until she got to where she wanted to be, she thought with a smile, and then she’d probably find something else to reach for and pursue that as well, no matter what got in the way. Naoto nodded to herself, ignoring the tight pull of her too-small clothes and letting that resolution settle in her heart.

 

She owed it to them keep going, and to herself to see where it all led.

 

_We didn’t get this far by doubting ourselves and giving up, did we Senpai?_

 

 

 

_December 17, 8:39am_

Everyone had a different version of Hell. Other people, no other people, noise, school, a little sister’s birthday, that party where all the hot girls were already taken and all the desperate ones were single, or, his own close second, being around Chie when she was on a steak-tasting marathon.

 

But what topped Hanamura Yosuke’s personal list was working in retail during the week leading into Christmas. Even back home hadn’t been this busy. And he was positive Inaba didn’t have so many fussy shoppers during the other 49 weeks of the year, but the Christmas decorations and his uniform were a red flag and a bulls eye for them. And he had to be there, without fail. No excuses would do, not a lack of sleep from a nightmare-fuelled evening or even trying to curry favour with his mother and offering to help her with the seasonal baking. So, here he was, hiding outside in the patio food court after a morning of dodging customers and directing workers and rushing orders like it was the last day on Earth. He stripped off his apron and rested against the wall, cooling off and working to keep his headache from getting any worse.

 

Of all days to be called in, why today? Would’ve been nice to give Souji a call, see when he was coming back, hook up and invade Aiya with Nanako-chan and Ichijo, but no. Not for the son of the manager. He grumbled under his breath at the thought. He wasn’t like Yukiko-san; Junes wasn’t his to inherit or look after, and he wasn’t carrying on some proud family tradition. So why did he have to sacrifice his holidays for the sake of the store?

 

He broke off his grousing when a familiar dark blue shape made itself known at the edge of his vision. He glanced over curiously, making sure he wasn’t about to be ambushed by another determined customer or anxious co-worker, and chuckled in disbelief when he saw Naoto sitting at the table they’d occupied when it was raining or snowing, back when the investigation was still open. He’d been in such a rush to get away from the grocery section that he hadn’t noticed he was heading toward where he and the others had regularly gathered for close to a year. And seeing Naoto there hit him with a familiar sense of nostalgia that he hadn’t felt in months.

 

His feet were moving before he knew it, but he went along with it – she looked pretty small, smaller than usual, sitting there all alone, and even the manager’s son needed a break from the job now and then. Teddie could pick up the slack for a while.

 

“Hey,” he cajoled with a smile as he sat across from her. “How’s life?”

 

“Good morning, Yosuke-senpai,” she returned calmly, but with more than a trace of a smile. “I thought I might meet you here. Are you occupied?”

 

Yosuke shrugged good-naturedly. “Nah. I’m on my break. I’ve been here since 6:30, so they’ll mange without me for a while.”

 

“I see.” Her eyes went out of focus for a moment, then she turned in her seat to face him more directly. “Were you planning on marking today? Or will you have that much time to yourself?”

 

His smile faded a little as an echo of hissing wild red light, crazed laughter and gunshots rang in his ears, but he pushed them away. “I’ve given it some thought, yeah. What about you?”

 

“That is why I am here.”

 

“Deep thoughts?”

 

She cocked her head to the side for a moment, then shook it. “I wouldn’t call them ‘deep,’ per se. Rather, I’ve been thinking of you and Senpai and the group. How you all seem to have become stronger because of what you experienced together.”

 

Yosuke picked up on her tone and gave her his trademark smile and wink. “It’s not like you’re not part of us, you know. And you’ve come a long way from hanging out with Kanji after school.”

 

Much as he wanted to see her squirm or deny any association with the delinquent, Naoto just closed her eyes and smiled back. “Perhaps. Maybe the problem is that it doesn’t feel real yet.”

 

“It was like that for some of us too,” Yosuke offered. “For me, it felt real after the first murders, but I know it took some of the others a while to really find their groove.”

 

She looked at him appraisingly. “If it felt that real, then it must have been difficult to cope in the beginning. You mentioned someone important to you being a factor in the investigation.”

 

Now his smile withered completely, and Naoto’s gaze turned to the side as red dusted her cheeks, realizing how her question must have come across.

 

Saki-senpai. Yosuke hadn’t thought of her since the day after they’d beaten that bastard, when he’d gone to her grave with a handful of tulips and put her to rest. He wouldn’t call himself ‘at peace’ with her death – it still hurt when he thought about it. But he’d accepted what had happened and done everything he could to strike a balance, to make it up to Saki-senpai’s family for what happened. Unlike what his Shadow said, he wasn’t trying to act tough and be the hero – he’d done what he could and was moving on. What else could he do?

 

“She was,” he replied finally with a forced smile. “She was important to me. But Souji helped me make sense of all that. And I can’t let it keep me down forever, you know?”

 

Her blush had nothing to do with the cold, and she looked up with contrition written across her fine-boned features. “I’m sorry. That was crass of me.”

 

“It’s alright. It’s what it is, right?” He gave a sigh and gestured around them. “There’s more to me than what happened back then. I mean, it’s not like I’m staying here forever. Life goes on, no matter how big that stuff with Adachi and Izanami was.”

 

His words seemed to pique her interest. Or maybe she just wanted a reason to change the subject. “Do you plan on moving out of Inaba then? I was of the impression you and Senpai were comfortable here.”

 

“I am, and this place has grown on me.” He leaned back for a stretch, collecting his words and dismissing the dour mood that Saki-senpai’s name had brought up as best he could. “But I kinda want to see what else is out there, you know? Travel, go to university, hit the cities again, that sort of thing.” He chuckled and shot her another devil-may-care grin. “So long as there’s a Junes nearby, I won’t be hurting for a job, right?”

 

“Do you have a university in mind?”

 

“A few,” Yosuke admitted, “but we’ll see what the entrance exams look like. Anyway, enough of the past and school. You hungry?” It was an offer he’d never have made if Chie was in the same part of town as him, but Naoto probably couldn’t eat that much.

 

“Another time I would, but I’m meeting my Grampa for breakfast soon. Perhaps on some other occasion?”

 

“Works for me. See you around.”

 

She nodded and rose from the table before making her way toward the elevators. Yosuke leaned back and went over the conversation in his mind before smiling to himself. He’d never say it to her a second time, but she really had come a long way from the sleuth they’d met outside Tatsumi Textiles all those months ago. In a way, it was sort of encouraging; they were all making good on their promises to change.

 

He was soaking in the calm when saw several approaching workers, and gave a short sigh before grabbing his apron again. No rest for the wicked.

 

 

 

 

 

_December 17, 9:07am_

Exertion was therapy. Some people listened to music, others painted or did puzzles or banzai, and others still screamed into a pillow until they got their stress out. For Satonaka Chie, the road to less stress and a clear mind was in pushing her body and reveling in the pull and burn of her muscles.

 

She pulled to a stop, breathing hard in the winter air and steaming from the sweat that covered her. The mountain trails around Inaba didn’t belong to anyone, and didn’t even have a name like the big-city parks, but she’d taken to them like Kanji to his needlework and used them almost religiously. Walking, running like she had been, shadow sparring, she’d tried it all and it never got old. Rain or shine, spring or winter, this was her haunt. Brushing her face with the towel draped around her neck, she checked her watch and decided to take a break - she’d been going for close to an hour already.

 

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to figure things out as she ran. She’d thought once that she might have been running from her problems, in more ways than one, but dismissed the idea when Yukiko pointed out that she ran as a way of solving her problems, not to escape them. And while her problems since the fight with Izanami were pretty minor by comparison, she still indulged in the strain of muscle and a good adrenaline rush.

 

She leaned back to look skyward, wincing at the bright December sun through the leafless canopy and crisp, cloudless sky. “Why do you fight?” she asked herself, voicing the thought to the trees and snow-covered trails. She’d heard the phrase in one of her martial arts movies, and it sounded like something Souji-kun would ask if she’d ever discussed the idea with him. Normally thinking about stuff like that and looking back on her life took a back seat to school and her next steak dinner, but she felt it was appropriate that, today, she give the thoughts some time.

 

She’d asked Souji-kun once if he thought that her motivation staying unchanged from her first time in the TV world to the present was strange. “No,” he’d told her. “You know what you want and you like what you’re doing, and there’s nothing wrong with that staying the same.” And it hadn’t changed – her desire to protect the team might have started with Yukiko and grown to include the others (even Yosuke, but only sometimes), but the desire itself never really changed. And she was happy with that, especially since it set her on the path of a place within the Inaba PD. With a clear goal and the chance to get there, how hard could it be?

 

Of course, protecting the others wasn’t always that easy. At first she’d been worried for Yukiko. No matter what they’d seen in the TV or how much Chie patched things up with her almost-sister, there was still that impulse to protect the Amagi heiress from whatever problems came up. Shadows, problems at home, guys who got too pushy, she’d wanted to guard her friend from everything, no matter what reason her Shadow came up with. Same as she’d wanted to protect Souji-kun, no matter how little he needed protecting, or Nanako-chan from Namatame. She even wanted to protect Yosuke from his stupid ideas and big mouth, but, and she chuckled at the thought, he could suffer for it after all the crap she put up with. There had to be something else he owed her for, something she could hold over him for a steak lunch…

 

Same with the others. Rise-chan and Naoto-kun, they had needed protecting, either from the Shadows or from the problems they’d all been facing as the investigation went on, and, as their senpai, looking out for them was her job. And she’d taken up the role with the same enthusiasm she adopted with every challenge she faced. Except for studying and tests. And cooking. And wearing dresses or skirts or heels, and trying on makeup, and… She shook her head with a frustrated growl. Well, never mind. The point was, she’d always wanted to protect Yukiko and the others, so joining the Inaba PD was the best way to build on that desire.

 

Because they didn’t need protecting now. They’d grown in their own ways and made their own decisions, whether they’d stayed in Inaba or gone abroad. She didn’t have to look after them anymore. She still would, of course – she was still Yukiko’s friend and Rise-chan’s senpai, and she’d look after them however she could for as long as she was able. But Yukiko was stronger now, forging her own path, and Rise-chan had always dealt with her own problems with that same zest and energy that she used for everything in her life. Naoto-kun had her own guardian angel, if only she’d open her eyes to his efforts. They were moving on. It would have been easy to mope and feel spurned or left behind, but those emotions never came up. Chie was glad for her friends and wished them the best. She’d always be there for them, and that was all there was to it. Maybe, she thought, it was just part of growing up.

 

That was enough soft thinking though. Rested and feeling her second wind kick in, she continued her run up the mountain trail. The Inaba PD wouldn’t accept her if she wasn’t in top shape, and she’d be damned if she didn’t give it 110%.

 

 

 

 

 

_December 17, 2:36 pm_

 

Six dolls, four plush toys, seven repairs and more than a dozen cell phone and keychain ornaments in the last week alone. He’d expected to be busy in the holiday season, but not like this. The orders had started at the beginning of the month, and he still had more than a week until Christmas. He was putting full days into the shop, working from breakfast to dinner and right through lunch sometimes.

 

Thing was, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather be doing. Hanging out with Senpai and kicking ass in the TV, sure, but this felt pretty good. Even better than taking down those pansy-assed bikers. So there he was, hunched over his work desk and working his magic on bolts of cloth and strings of beads better than even his parents could have. Just a few more orders to go, and then he could take a break.

 

“Kanji, are you nearly done?” his mother called as she turned the corner to his work space. Every roll of fabric, every bag of beads, every needle and roll of thread had its place, and he’d never hear the end of it if he left the room in a mess.

 

“Hey Ma,” he grunted as he rose, stretching and popping his joints. Didn’t help much with the soreness in his knuckles and neck, but it was a start. “Yeah, for now I guess.” Her finely-lined features shifted into a kind but expectant smile, and he sighed. “Something you needed?”

 

“A package has arrived at the post office, and I’m expecting a customer soon.”

 

He could read between the lines well enough to catch her meaning. He stretched again and let his breath out in a rush. “Yeah, alright. Anything else?”

 

“We’ll need something for dinner. Please buy something while you’re out, if you don’t mind.” She handed him a small roll of bills and the package card for the post office, both which he palmed and slipped into his pockets.

 

“Alright Ma, I’ll be back soon.”

 

Two more stretches and a string of half a dozen cracks later, he grabbed his winter coat and boots before heading into the sharp winter air. After being cooped up for so long, the chill and the clean smell was a change worth enjoying for a while, and even more as he started walking down the street. He’d just gotten out of the business district when he heard someone approach him from behind. He was half turned to meet them when the person spoke. “Excuse me. You’re Tatsumi Kanji, right?”

 

The guy looked like a student, around Kanji’s own age, and standing close enough to hold a conversation, but far enough back not to crowd him. Pretty average height, long dark hair poking out from under a grey tuque and hazel eyes staring from behind thin wire-rim glasses. He was almost swallowed up by the thick grey coat wrapped around him, and was shifting his weight from foot to foot. First glance made Kanji figure he was another scrawny nerd from Yasogami, but his face and hair didn’t have the thinness of someone who was always two meals short. Wiry instead of thin. And the three earrings he wore in each ear were hard to miss too.

 

“Depends on who’s asking. Who’re you supposed to be?”

 

“Kirigaya Tatsuya,” the student replied with a bow.

 

Kanji’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. What did the VP of the Yasogami manga club want with him? “Okay, so what? There something you want?”

 

“We’re kind of going in the same direction, so I wanted to know if I could ask you something, from one artist to another.” Kirigaya shirked a little under Kanji’s stare, but didn’t crack or leave. “I mean, people say you’re pretty handy with a needle and thread, and that’s pretty impressive. I wouldn’t have guessed it, you know? You don’t look the part, if you ask me.”

 

“I didn’t ask,” Kanji snapped. “And everyone knows I sew. Big deal.”

 

Kanji wasn’t really in the mood to deal with someone who wasn’t part of their little group. People never seemed to change when it came to him, just seeing his bleached hair and leather jacket. Even after all the crap the team had gone through, he still heard the gossip from different corners of the school about his sewing. Other students just weren’t worth the effort.

 

But maybe that’s what Senpai had meant when he’d said to lower his guard and let people see him for who he was. Being around his senpai was easy enough, though Yosuke still pissed him off sometimes, and trash talking the cops came as a second nature now – they never believed he wasn’t up to no good, so he could be whoever he wanted around them. But students were still a tough sell. Too many people still saw him as weird, and while he had no problem ‘correcting their mistakes’ when they shot their mouths off, he still wasn’t about to shout his talents from the school roof.

 

“T-that’s not what I meant. I know I called myself an artist, but I’m really just good at drawing. So it’s not like I can judge you,” Kirigaya continued, not seeming to notice the taller teen’s silence. “I can’t really say drawing manga’s more manly than needlework, can I?”

 

“Wouldn’t be the first to try,” Kanji grunted. “But I don’t give a shit if you judge me or not. You still haven’t said what you want with me or why I oughta care.”

 

“Ah, right, well, I guess that would help. You’re friends with Seta Souji, right?”

 

Kanji cocked his head to the side. “Senpai? Why do you care?”

 

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, but not like that. He knew Ebihara Ai, didn’t he? The school’s full of rumours about him, and some of them… well, do you know how well he got along with her?”

 

Ebihara? Oh, her. “You mean that blond chick hanging around the basketball team?”

 

“Well, yeah. Her.”

 

Kanji shrugged. “Dunno. Senpai gets along with a lot of people, and none of us could do that. If you’re gonna go after her, then don’t worry about him. He’s got a girlfriend, and it ain’t her.”

 

He tried to not look too relieved, but he didn’t pull it off too well. “Ah, good. I mean, good that Seta-san has a girlfriend, he seems like a stand-up kind of guy.”

 

Kanji checked his watch and grimaced; he was going to be late. “Yeah, whatever. I gotta go.” He turned and continued toward the post office.

 

“So, can I join you?”

 

Kanji stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, putting a little more glare in his glower. “You wanna hang out with a guy you just met? Why? I got things to do, you know. And you already got your answer on your girl.”

 

“Still, I’d like to talk to you. Just for a while, I won’t take up too much of your time.”

 

Kanji just shrugged. “Do whatever you like. If you’re gonna hang around me though, you’re gonna carry some of the weight.”

 

“Weight?”

 

“Yeah. Got some parcels and food to pick up.”

 

That would work. It always did. Kirigaya didn’t have a reason to tag along after that. “Sure!” he replied instead, throwing Kanji off balance. “There’s a crafts store near the post office, and I need some more pencils and brush pens. We can talk about Seta-san and Ebihara-san, if you don’t mind.”

 

Kanji shook his head with a measure of finality. “Look, whatever, alright? Let’s just go.”

 

The trip to the post office felt only half as long as usual, probably because the kid didn’t stop talking the whole way there. And Kanji wasn’t so into other people making that much noise that he was normally cool with it. But it was strange to hear someone talking about drawing as much as Kirigaya did. He sorta looked the part of a manga nerd, but sorta didn’t. There was more to him than a blind fascination with drawing half-naked girls and action scenes – he really sounded like he understood drawing and characters. And Kanji understood and respected that.

 

“…I mean, you could say that Hirano Kohta’s designs and detail make the story, not to mention his weird sense of humour, and Araki Kirohiko’s focus on detail and anatomy are half the point of buying his stuff in the first place, and you’d probably be right, but you need direction and immersion to really get into a good story, you know? Araki has some pretty crazy ideas, and they’re all pretty awesome, don’t get me wrong, but for story immersion, Oda Eichiro pulls that off perfectly. So does Yuki Kaori, and her stuff’s become a lot more accessible to the Western market lately. Probably not a coincidence. You hear how she got into drawing manga in the first place? Really inspirational stuff, way deeper than those guys in Tokyo who…”

 

Of course, Kanji’s respect for the guy didn’t change the fact that once he started talking manga-nese, he didn’t shut up.

 

“So’re you any good?” Kanji asked finally as they approached the post office, thumbing the card in his pocket.

 

“… and that’s why her attention to the Samurai class is so– Sorry, what?”

 

“You’ve been talking about artists and drawing almost non-stop since we left downtown. Sounds like you’re into it. But are you any good?”

 

“I… well, I like to think so. I’ve been drawing and reading for a lot of my life.”

 

Kanji shook his head. “And after all that, you ‘like to think’ you’re good?”

 

Kirigaya scratched the back of his head. “Well, it’s just manga, right?”

 

Just manga. Just sewing and crafts. _“So what if it is sewing, Kanji? That’s not a skill to run away from.”_ “Like hell it is,” Kanji snapped, turning to face his tag-along. “You start thinkin’ that, you’ll never get anywhere. So what if it’s manga? If you want it to be something bad enough, then make it go somewhere and do something with it.”

 

“That… that’s pretty deep, Tatsumi-san,” Kirigaya said finally. But there was a small glimmer in his eyes, the spark of something that hadn’t been there before. “I mean, you think so?”

 

The way Kirigaya was looking at him, with that much respect, was starting to creep him out. “Hell if I know,” was the reply as Kanji turned on his heel and kept walking. “I mean, I just mend clothes and sew stuff, right?”

 

Kirigaya seemed able to read between the lines, so he nodded as he walked beside the taller teen. “Right. Pretty amazing stuff, from what I hear.”

 

Kanji just gave a shrug and a chuckle, and Kirigaya went back to his chatter about manga artists. But there was a bit more spring in his step now.

 

Of course, that spring didn’t last long when Kanji handed him three of the six packages on the way out of the post office. And Kanji was carrying the heavier of the parcels without a step out of place. Still, boxes of cloth and beads and paper weren’t as light as they sounded. “Isn’t this a little bit much?” Kirigaya puffed after a few blocks.

 

“I need to grab something for tonight, so I’ll need a hand free,” Kanji told him while shouldering his packages. Kirigaya groaned under the weight but said nothing else, even when Kanji came back out of the supermarket with his purchase, and when they stopped at the crafts store for the manga supplies. Once the money was spent and they were on their way back to the Tatsumi residence, Kanji spoke up. “Yeah, all I know about Ebihara is that she was there to see Senpai off when he went back home in March. They seemed like good friends, but that’s all I know about it.”

 

Kirigaya nodded while working to keep everything in his arms. “That’s a good start. Thanks.”

 

They stopped at the intersection near the shrine, where Kirigaya gently set down the heavier items with a relieved groan. “Well, thanks for the information, Tatsumi-san. Will you be around if, you know, you want to talk again?”

 

“You were the one with all the questions,” Kanji pointed out. “But yeah, I’ll be around. I live above the sewing shop. You can usually find me there.”

 

“Cool, cool. Well,” he held out his hand, earning a strange look from Kanji who eventually reached out and shook it, “thanks again. And see you later, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled his coat closer around himself and headed down the street.

 

Weird guy. Nice enough, and he talked way too much. But at least he stood up for himself.

 

Kanji leaned back and played their conversation through his mind. Kirigaya seemed like he was on the level, and actually sounded interested in crafts. Being into manga would do that, maybe. Still, he respected the guy a little for being honest.

 

He looked down and could almost see Senpai by the shrine steps, pale hair and dark uniform and everything. He could hear him, too. _“You’ve got gifts to be proud of, Kanji. Gods know I can’t sew to save my life. There’s nothing wrong with working with that, is there? It’s not like you’re the only person out there who’s good at something that isn’t mainstream.”_

 

Senpai was right. He always was. And this guy, Kirigaya, maybe he could learn a few things from him. Yeah, maybe branching out wouldn’t be so bad. He could give it a try, and ditch the guy if it started getting weird.

 

He collected the packages with a satisfied smile and headed back in the house. For a trip to the post office and playing pack horse, it wasn’t a bad day.

 

 

 

 

 

_December 17, 5:58pm_

“You seem to be in good spirits, Yukiko,” Amagi Ryoko observed from where she was writing in the Inn’s finance ledger. “Looking forward to Christmas?”

 

The Inn heiress blushed a little and nodded happily, breaking off from her reading. “Souji-kun said he’d be coming back soon, and I think his train arrives tonight.”

 

Ryoko’s smile widened, just a little, and she let out a soft chuckle. “Ahh, I see. Then at least this year won’t be dull – he seems quite good at causing waves whenever he’s in the area.”

 

Katsushiro grunted and looked up, breaking away from organizing the room arrangements. “You should find someone else to focus your attentions on. He’s nothing but trouble.”

 

Yukiko sighed. Not this again. “He’s been very diligent about keeping in touch, Daddy, and he’s working hard to make something of himself. He wants to get somewhere with his life, so he can’t be here all the time.”

 

Her father shook his head and stared at her sharply from across the room. “Why do you believe that? Because that’s what he told you when you went to Kofu? He’s playing you for a fool, you know, just like the other students at school.”

 

She stared back at him without flinching, flushing a little in indignation. “He’s not like them. Not even close.” No, Souji really was nothing like the boys at school, especially not the student who tried hitting on her last week.

 

It was the last stretch of classes before she’d written her exams. She was just packing up her books when several students came up to her, stopping along each side of the desk aisle. One, a boy with long brown hair that was less tidy than Yosuke-kun’s, stepped up and talked to her directly. “Hey Amagi. Got a minute?”

 

“One minute, maybe. What is it?”

 

“We were just wondering what you had planned, you know? Word on the grapevine is that you’re single again. Doesn’t seem fair.” His eyes ran down the length and breadth of her, and she narrowed her eyes when he was done looking. “You available this weekend?”

 

“I’m busy, I’m afraid. And your information’s wrong – I’m not single. Excuse me.”

 

She tried to move past them, but they moved between her and the door. “Whoa there. You mean Seta? He’s not here now, and you can do better than him.” She stopped trying to pass them by, feeling a spark of indignation rise in her chest. He continued despite her level stare. “Besides, seems he’s into Risette now, just like he was when she was here. Not like you can trust those guys from the city, right? And you can’t have too many friends these days. I mean, you’re beautiful and rich, right? We wouldn’t want to leave you hanging.”

 

“Souji-kun isn’t seeing Rise,” she replied shortly, feeling her features set coldly at their mention of her family’s wealth. “And those magazines blew the picture out of proportion.”

 

“Ahh, but are you sure? He’s on the other side of the country and living it up with the Tokyo chicks. He’s not the sort to stick with one thing, you know? You know how those city guys are, so wouldn’t it be better to take a sure thing when you can?”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “Your timing is a little convenient, isn’t it? Did you wait until Souji-kun was gone and Chie was busy to raise these question? Or was it just luck?”

 

“Damn, she’s cold,” one of the others muttered.

 

“She was better before Seta showed up,” the other commented under his breath. She probably wasn’t supposed to hear that, but she cut them off with a sharp glare that dared him to say more. He stayed silent.

 

“Neither,” the original speaker replied, trying for a semblance of control. “We just figure now’s a good time that you move on from some has-been city guy, you know?”

 

“I don’t know if it would be wise to let Kanji-kun hear you say that,” she told him, letting a measure of concern enter her voice while she suppressed a smile at their sudden unease. “He looks up to Souji-kun as his senpai, so him hearing someone call Souji-kun a liar or careless with his friends might put him in a bad mood. Even more so if someone said he would cheat on his girlfriend.” She made no particular emphasis on the last word, but from the way all their eyes shot to hers when she said it, they got the idea. “And Souji-kun’s one of Chie’s closest friends, so she’d take it personally if someone were spreading rumours about him. She’s taking the test for the Inaba Police Department, you see,” she informed the others helpfully, “and she’s been practicing her fighting a lot lately.”

 

“I ain’t afraid of Tatsumi,” the boy assured her far too quickly to be genuine. “He’s a year behind us, and he’s got nothin’ on us. And Satonaka’s just a girl.”

 

“I think Ichijo and Nagase on the basketball team were good friends of his too,” Yukiko continued easily. “They hung out at Aiya all the time, so do you suppose they were wrong about him too?”

 

“Who’s talking about me?” a calm voice called from behind her, smooth as polished ivory. Ichijo Kou passed through the back doors of the class with his books still close at hand and strode over to Yukiko and the boys, all of whom were looking less and less sure of themselves.

 

“They were raising some doubts about Souji-kun,” Yukiko informed him before they could reply. “They seemed to think the pictures of him and Rise-chan were genuine.”

 

“Souji’s one of a kind,” Kou assured them with a raised eyebrow. “No two ways around it. If he said those pictures were a misunderstanding, odds are good that’s exactly what they were. Was that what you were wondering?”

 

“Uh… Something like– No, nevermind. It’s nothing.” They left without looking back, and there were several angry mutters between them before they reached the door.

 

“Figures they wouldn’t stay away forever,” Kou murmured to himself. “Guess even Souji can’t win them all over. Still, you’d think they’d be a little less tacky.”

 

She nodded, leaning back against a nearby desk before turning to thank him. The books under Kou’s arm struck her as larger than their standard textbooks, and Yukiko couldn’t help glancing at the titles on the spines. “Kinesiology?” she asked in surprise. “That’s an interesting subject.”

 

“Hm?” Kou looked at her in a flash, then down at the books himself. “Ah. Yeah, just some light reading. Figure it’d help me on the court, right? Can’t know too much.”

 

“Souji says the same thing.”

 

Kou chuckled good-naturedly and gave her a wide smile. “And that’s why he’s as good as he is. I’m looking forward to seeing him again. Is he coming back soon?”

 

She nodded, collecting her books and bags again. “In about a week.”

 

He took the hint and hitched his own load closer. “I’m looking forward to it then. See you later, Yukiko-san.”

 

“You too, Kou-kun,” she answered with a small bow. “Thank you.” He gave her a friendly wave and left the same way he arrived, and she made her way home.

 

No, Souji wasn’t anything like those jerks. And all of his friends were good people too, so how could he be that bad? “He was a perfect gentleman in Kofu, Daddy, and he promised he’d be coming back to Inaba soon.”

 

Amagi Katsushiro looked anything but convinced. “For how long this time? As long as it takes to get what he wants, and then he’ll disappear again, won’t he?”

 

She thought her father’s words over before answering. “If his dedication is what you’re concerned about, would it help if you spoke to one of his relatives?”

 

His eyes narrowed. “You said he was from Tokyo. Would they come out here on his behalf?”

 

“Dojima-san from the police department is his uncle, and the two are very close. I’m sure he’d vouch for Souji if it was needed.”

 

“Would he have the time to visit?”

 

“I’m sure he’d find the time, Daddy. Would that help?”

 

“Invite Dojima-san over when he has the time, Yukiko,” her mother told her, giving a sideways look to her husband. “It certainly can’t hurt.”

 

She bowed to them both before heading off to complete her duties for the evening, eager to get away from the discussion she was sure would follow. The night would be easier to get through if she didn’t have to explain things again, and listen to Daddy doubt Souji.

 

She loved her parents, there was never a doubt of that, but her father’s over protectiveness was starting to chafe a little. She wasn’t a child who needed her knees bandages when she fell. She’d gone through her share of challenges in the TV world and had never flinched, and she wouldn’t let doubt get in the way of what she wanted.

 

That was what today meant to her. That was what she’d fought for, what she’d worked toward since that battle with Adachi, and she was getting closer. They were getting closer.

 

Just a little longer.

 

 

 

 

_December 17, 6:51pm_

 

A year already. Sure, the days usually flew by when she was on stage or in meetings, being carted and flown from one end of the country to the other, but those times hadn’t felt this significant. Well, maybe they had when they were happening, but, looking back, she couldn’t bring herself to see auditions or the paparazzi as the same problem they were before she’d gone to Inaba. She’d met her dearest friends, met Senpai, and been part of something that both thrilled her and terrified her to the core, and while the nightmares still bothered her sometimes, she was moving past them. She’d gotten over Senpai hooking up with Yukiko-senpai, so a few restless nights were nothing to worry about. And while that still stung a little, it wasn’t in a bad way. She could think of Souji as her benchmark for other guys she met now – he was her new golden standard.

 

Rise shivered under her thick coat, scarf and bandana. Winter was the same in Kofu as it was back west, and she far preferred the summer months to being cold all the time. And she was always cold, almost unfairly so, no matter how many layers she put on. The park was well traveled enough that she didn’t feel out of place, and the trees around her, stripped of their leaves, were enough of a windbreak to keep the stiff breeze off her, for the most part. And despite there being barely a breeze tonight, she could still feel it right down to the bones. Stupid snow and cold, she grumbled while burrowing into her coat as much as she could. She modelled for swimsuits, not parkas.

 

Her silent rumblings were interrupted by footsteps approaching from behind her. Her eyes raised expectantly as the other young lady spoke.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” mentioned Takenaka Megumi, bundled up in a classy, double-breasted winter coat of the same dark hue as her hair with a matching scarf tied around her neck. She was, Rise noted with a trace of disgust, largely unaffected by the cold.

 

“No worries. I just got here myself.” And it was the truth. Even if she had invited the girl out, there was no way she was freezing for the sake of being early.

 

“I expected Souji-kun to be with you,” Megumi commented after looking around and stepping closer. “I take it he’s gone back to Inaba?”

 

“He left this afternoon,” Rise replied, gesturing toward the cold railing in invitation. “I think Yukiko-senpai’s visit sped up his plans.”

 

Megumi chuckled, turning in place as she approached and leaning back against the railing calmly. “That makes sense. If anything could push him to change his plans, it would be a girl like that.”

 

“Senpai’s always full of surprises,” Rise told her confidently. “And it’s so easy to forget how much he keeps to himself. Yukiko-senpai doesn’t let him get away with it though.”

 

“I’m glad,” Megumi said finally. “It’s good that he has someone like that, and she sounds like a good match for him. Hearing him talk, I get the feeling he’s in it for the long haul with her. And all the better. It certainly beats him having to follow what his family sets out for him.”

 

“He’s talked to you about them?” Rise inquired, turning to the girl inquisitively. “He’s usually pretty quiet about his family, even around us.”

 

Megumi eyed the starlet cautiously, her eyes, normally dancing with laughter, more still and calm than the frozen river they were overlooking as she turned something over in her mind. “I suppose I can talk about it around you,” she said finally. “It would have been awkward talking around Souji-kun.”

 

Rise tilted her head to the side. This was interesting – Takenaka Megumi was even harder to pin down than Senpai when it came to the small details. “Is there something you don’t want him knowing?”

 

“Not really,” Megumi hedged noncommittally. “Not like it’s a dark secret or anything. More like whenever he talks about his upbringing, I can sympathize with how he feels. And understand how much it sucks to be born to those kinds of people.”

 

The older girl’s flat and apathetic tone caught Rise off guard and sent the gears of her mind turning, trying to pinpoint what the comment might be indicating. But whatever it was, she couldn’t figure it out. “Your parents are in corporate business too?” she inquired finally.

 

There was an odd change in Megumi’s eyes. They softened, and then her face hardened into a cold scowl, then went still into the mask she was wearing before, all within a few seconds. “More or less. It’s… hard to talk about. Not really something I’m proud of.”

 

“I don’t want to pry,” Rise told her, prepared to change the subject.

 

“No. I don’t talk about it enough, I think, and it’s not like it can hurt me now.” She sighed and curled into herself, looking smaller than Rise had ever seen the confident and capable girl. Despite seeming vulnerable, however, there was a set to her face that made her look like Souji-senpai when they’d faced off against Izanami – hard, detached, and ready for anything. “His father and mine know each other,” Megumi began flatly. “They’re business associates, and have worked together a few times. I’ve never met his father, but from the sounds of it, Seta Yuuma and my father could have been separated at birth for how much they value their family and children.”

 

That made Rise perk up, but the information raised a few questions. “That sounds like something Senpai would want to know about. Why hide it?”

 

“My father-” the way she said the word could have frozen standing alcohol, “-and I don’t share the same last name, no matter how much he insists. And he’s not above trying for an arranged marriage to advance himself at work. I doubt he’d try it with me now, but he’s impossible to figure out. I haven’t spoken to him in more than six months, and haven’t had a discussion that didn’t end in a screaming match in years. So I don’t doubt Souji-kun would put the pieces together if I told him about my parents, but there’s no point in raising the matter until he does.”

 

Rise took her time to take in the new information before responding. “Then you don’t talk about your family for the same reason Senpai doesn’t? Because it’s not happy, and not something you can get away from?”

 

Megumi shrugged. “In a sense, I guess. But my parents bear a lot of the blame there. My mother used to be in corporate finance, and was very good at it. She graduated in the top 5% of her class, had good commendations and references, and a great career, the way she tells it.” Megumi snorted, eyes narrowing harshly. “But that changed when she met my father. She balanced work and her life well enough, but then she got pregnant with me and took maternity leave. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d been available, but he’d lied to her up to that point: she found out around that time that he was already married, and wouldn’t leave his wife for her. She refused to have an abortion, and while her taste in men wasn’t much to speak of, she was very smart with her money.” Megumi didn’t move as she told her tale, barely blinked against the sharp winter wind. “She did well enough until I was born, but she’d lost her chances to advance and had to live with the stigma of being a single mother. In a corporate world where image is everything, that’s as good as a pink slip.”

 

Rise kept silent as the words sank in. “It doesn’t sound like this ended well,” she offered, unsure of what to say.

 

“She never worked in that sector again,” Megumi replied flatly. “She’d lost too much time and too many connections while I was growing up to jump back into where she was before. It might have been different if she’d said who my father was, perhaps used him to get back on her feet, but she refused to.” Megumi’s frigid voice turned positively caustic. “It was like she loved the man, even after it cost her everything she’d worked for. And he refused to help us after he saw me – I was supposed to be a boy.”

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“His wife gave him two girls, and the son he did have died in a car crash when he was 14. He wants a son to carry on his name and stature, but won’t have anything to do with me unless it benefits him. No birthday gifts, no visits, nothing beyond what’s required so he can keep his life on the course it’s on now.”

 

To be seen as a faceless asset by the people who were supposed to love you the most… Rise didn’t know what to say. Perhaps because there wasn’t anything she could say. Her parents were selective about their visits because they were busy, but they never wavered in encouraging her to follow her dreams, no matter where they took her. Every Christmas, every birthday and holiday, she tried to work in a visit with them, and sent out holiday cards to them if she couldn’t. Much as she’d die of embarrassment if anyone else heard her father’s sappy nickname for her, his ‘darling little sugar plum,’ she never wished he’d stop. Especially now. She made another resolution right then and there – she was calling him tomorrow and getting him the biggest box of Swiss chocolate she could find for Christmas.

 

“My mother never really recovered,” Megumi continued grimly. “She’s a loan officer at the bank now because of him. She’s stopped trying to use her talents and advance where she knows she could get somewhere because she lost hope and can’t get out of the mess her life’s become. It’s impossible to talk to her about anything now.” She chuckled, a dead sound that Rise felt she had no business making. “It’s ironic that I was named ‘Megumi’ when my parents saw me as anything but a blessing. Truth is, I’m not sure what I’d do with their approval even if they did give it to me.”

 

“That’s not your fault,” Rise told her immediately, leaning closer to catch the girl’s eyes. “They made their decisions and lived their lives how they wanted to, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a good person just because of them.”

 

Megumi looked at the starlet for a long moment, gauging her words and expression, then chuckled. “I know, and you’re right. Sorry if this is getting depressing – the memories are always closer to the surface when it gets cold.”

 

“I don’t mind listening. I was actually thinking of the past when you got here, so it’s not like you changed the mood very much.”

 

“Is that so?” Megumi cocked her head to the side, looking intrigued and frowning thoughtfully. “Why now? Kind of early for reflections and resolutions, isn’t it?”

 

“It’s sort of a tradition for me,” Rise replied awkwardly. It wasn’t like she could tell the girl about what the anniversary she was celebrating was about. “Kind of like an early New Year’s. Looking back on things that’ve happened, where I’m going in life, stuff like that.”

 

“Come up with anything?”

 

Rise let out a short giggle, smiling to the girl and leaning close conspiratorially. “Since you told me a secret of yours, I’ll tell you a secret of mine – I used to have the biggest crush on Souji-senpai.”

 

Megumi laughed, erasing the grim lines and sombre set to her face. “That’s understandable – he has that effect on a lot of girls, and I saw the magazine covers of you and him.”

 

“Yep. So he’s my resolution,” Rise declared proudly. “He’s got Yukiko-senpai, and I won’t get in the way of that, so I’m moving on and finding someone to hook up with. Someone who’ll give me something like what he has with Yukiko-senpai, or what you have with Toyama-kun.”

 

Megumi’s eyes went distant at the mention of her boyfriend. “He’s been a godsend in my life,” she murmured before looking at her friend knowingly. “So you’re looking for something serious?”

 

Rise shrugged with a laugh. “Why not? Never know what I can get if I don’t try, right?”

 

Megumi shook her head, finally smiling past her heavy confessions. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

 

“Yep. So do you know any smart, honest, caring, good-looking guys?”

 

“I’ll pass them onto you if I do.”

 

“Thanks!” Rise stepped back from the railing and nodded down the wind-cleared path that led out of the park. “Now, enough soul-searching. I’m in the mood for something sweet and crunchy. Care to join me?”

 

 

_December 17, 9:38 pm_

 

No matter how much he tried to plan before embarking on long-distance train rides, he never got as much rest in transit as he wanted. Or needed as little sleep as he hoped. And he was always leery about dozing off during the last legs of the trip: Inaba was usually bypassed in favour of Okina City, and he had no interest in missing his stop.

 

Still, standing on the train platform again, he couldn’t help the sense of nostalgia and amusement that crept in around his fatigue. There was still as little to greet him as there had been 20 months ago – less now, actually, since Nanako and Dojima were nowhere to be seen. But it was comforting in its familiarity, no matter what the view offered. And the change in seasons made the view novel and even more welcoming than usual. Fresh snow that gave the taste of sharp, clean ice, the chill in the air that prickled at his face and heavy coat, street lights that cast an almost otherworldly light on the frosty roads and falling flakes before him. He took a few moments to stand and look at it, saturated in the serenity and committing it to memory as he let the silence envelope him.

 

“Was it worth it?”

 

He jerked around in place, almost lost his balance on the snow. His breath sucked in so fast that his teeth stung as he looked for the owner of the voice. Then the words and the voice sank in, and he caught himself before he looked any more like a fool. Her voice hadn’t changed, still smooth and even with a trace of whimsy that he remembered all too well. “It’s been a while, Margaret,” he replied as he turned around and found the Velvet Room attendant standing next to one of the bike racks, her compendium still close at hand. Same curled hair, same blue dress despite the chill, same fine features. And Souji couldn’t help but notice that the snow and lamp lights gave her a faint glow, and, unlike his own, her breath wasn’t clouding from the cold. “I thought you’d have moved on by now.”

 

“I am where I feel I am needed, visitor,” came her reply. Formal though it was, the small upturn of her lips gave away her pleasure at his recognition. “You seemed to be deep in thought about something. Reflections? Regrets?”

 

“I don’t think I’ve slept more than four hours in the last thirty-six,” Souji replied through a yawn shielded by his upraised hand. “I wasn’t thinking much of anything, really.”

 

“Not at all? Today is rather important to you, isn’t it?”

 

Souji sighed, releasing a heavy puff of air in the cold night and rolling his right shoulder a little under his travel bags – it was starting to ache now. Now that he thought about it, several parts of him ached. “You had to bring that up, didn’t you?” He tried not to sound bitter or curt, but he didn’t succeed.

 

She didn’t flinch at his tone. “It’s important to see the past in perspective, and your actions changed you, altered your course in life. Doesn’t that bear some value to you?”

 

Much as he’d tried running from the memories, they wouldn’t leave him alone. He had been thinking about what today signified, long before he boarded the train for Inaba with his effects. He hadn’t slept well the night before either; Adachi and the backdrop of fractured red and rock awaited him when he closed his eyes, regardless of the clear night sky. And Margaret’s initial question was one he’d asked himself more than once.

 

For everything he’d found during his time in Inaba, everything that was worth hanging onto, there was something else that had scared him or scarred him in ways he’d probably carry for the rest of his life. Even as their adventures grew more serious, as it became more apparent that the dangers they faced were very real, he’d never thought he could lose anything until Nanako had been taken. To say it had opened his eyes was an understatement, and it had been hard to stand being in that hospital weeks ago when all he could think about was Nanako’s life-support monitor flat lining. Just the thought of the memory was enough to rouse those feelings of failure and loss, the icy chill of a fist crushing his heart while he could stand by and do nothing.

 

Was it worth it?

 

Nanako set against Adachi. The team against Izanami. Yukiko against the scars that were aching in the cold. All the good memories he’s collected at the cost of nightmares triggered by rainfall. One counterbalanced with the other.

 

Despite how easy it would have been to focus on his failures, and he had failed in his time as their leader, he refused to let that drag him down. If he’d learned anything from his time in the hospital and the breakdown that put him there, it was that Megumi had the right idea: he’d never stop beating himself up if he couldn’t let go of the things he couldn’t change. And while the nightmares still waited eagerly every time the rain started, he had to be better than that. He promised himself that he would, and he’d never forgive himself if he dragged Yukiko or Nanako into his own depression because he couldn’t let go of the past. They deserved far better than that, and he wanted to be there to give that ‘better’ to them, whatever form it took.

 

Regrets? Sure, he had his share. He’d probably have those nightmares for a good long time too. But the scars were fading, and the good memories were fast outnumbering the bad. For whatever Adachi had done, Souji still had Nanako, and he could build on that any time he wanted. He’d fought Izanami and emerged the victor, even after those long, horrible moments when he lost his team, the people who’d become his second family. And if he ever had to do it again to secure their future, he’d take those steps without a second thought. Then there was Yukiko, and just the thought of her name made all the trials he’d faced worth it. It sounded cliché in his mind, and he had no doubt that the team would roll their eyes at him if they ever heard him say it, but he couldn’t think of anything, not all the monsters he’d fought or the demons his friends had conjured, that he wouldn’t face for her sake.

 

“Yes,” he told Margaret, eyes unwavering. Their future was worth it. Yukiko was worth it. “It was worth it. No matter what I had to go through to get here, no matter the mistakes and the failures, It was all worth it.”

 

She leaned back with a nod and a mysterious little smile. “Then I hope that doesn’t change, no matter what challenges you face in the future.”

 

“I don’t suppose you know what any of those are, do you?”

 

His question earned him a sidelong smile and a small chuckle. “The affairs of gods are simple enough matters to determine. The hearts of people are anything but. You have done admirably up to now, however, and I believe you will continue to perform as well in the future.”

 

Souji chuckled, shaking his head. It figured that the Velvet Room inhabitants would give the most enigmatic advice. That said, he probably wouldn’t have listened if they’d told him that his future involved making amends with his father and following in the man’s footsteps. That was the point of today, after all: they’d fought for the chances to make their own decisions and experience the outcomes for themselves, good or bad, right or wrong. He didn’t need someone telling him his fortune like it was destined. Not anymore.

 

“Thanks, Margaret. Merry Christmas.” As he hoisted his bags and started off toward the Dojima residence, he heard her speak one last time, and didn’t bother turning to look because he knew she would be gone by the time he did.

 

“Thank you, traveler, and welcome home.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 

It was December 27th, and the Dojima household was under siege. The landing pad was littered with shoes and coats and scarves and hats of every shade and shape, contrasting quite well with the tidy wreaths and Christmas decorations Nanako and Souji had put up earlier in the week. The kitchen was home to an orchestra of sights and sounds and smells, from the massive turkey cooking in the oven to the  knives cutting vegetables and hitting cutting boards to the heavy aroma of meats and onions and gravies. And all throughout the house were laughter and banter and chatter: the sounds of friends and family enjoying each other’s company.

 

Dojima himself was leaning against the wall by the living room, enjoying a whiskey cocktail that Souji had handed him when he arrived. He’d been about to ask where Souji learned to mix drinks, and how he knew where the liquor stash was, but the slow burn of the whiskey and the sharp zest of his nephew’s ingredients convinced that the details didn’t matter this time. It was perfect for taking the edge off the cold, and he was on his second one since Souji’s friends arrived. Perhaps it was the drinks, or maybe he was just getting used to having so many teenagers around his house now, but their discussions and jokes sounded less like noise than they had more than a year ago. Even Tatsumi Kanji seemed like less like the punk he’d been on the news, fitting in with the likes of Shirogane Naoto and Amagi Yukiko.

 

Souji’s guests weren’t what he’d call his own friends, per se, but he couldn’t help but feel the bonds they’d forged with each other, and with his nephew. And he was proud to say that he’d seen them grow in the visits to his house.

 

That thought made him glance into his glass. Geez, he’d have to take it easy – he was getting soft. Still,  he couldn’t help watching the group as they were clustered in groups around his house, from Souji and Teddie and Tatsumi Kanji in the kitchen, watching stove burners and oven gauges and the variety of pots and pans his nephew had on the go:

 

“…and he’s interested in Ebihara Ai?”

 

Kanji shrugged, leaning against the fridge and careful not to get in his senpai’s way. “He sure talked about her a lot. Her and manga artists. Don’t think he ever mentioned anything else, and he was wondering if you had some advice for getting to know her. He’s an alright guy, I guess, so I figured I’d ask.”

 

“Who’s Ebihara, Sensei?” Teddie asked, trying to sneak a spoon into the sauce dish.

 

Souji’s brow creased, trying to find the right words to describe Ai while he snapped a spoon down on Teddie’s utensil and ignored the exaggerated pout he got in response. “That’s… a tough one. Ai’s pretty selective when it comes to guys, and the only reason I know her is out of dumb luck. The most I can recommend is that he get to know her as a person first, not as a student. But I’m sure that goes without saying.”

 

“Kinda, yeah. It’d help if you could pass on something specific for him, y’know? I’m not sure if he’ll really get anywhere, but, I dunno, maybe he’ll get somewhere with her.”

 

“I’ll think of something,” he promised, reaching for the spice rack. Then he spoke without looking to the side: “Leave it alone Teddie, or Nanako might get a new bear quilt for Christmas.”

 

The blonde stopped with his hand over the bread basket, still warm from the oven and smelling heavenly with fresh butter and garlic and herbs. “But… but Sensei, it’ll just be one!”

 

“No. We’ll wait until it’s all ready, or you won’t have any room for the rest.”

 

Teddie slouched back with an exaggerated grumble and contented himself with watching the others.

 

…to Satonaka Chie and Shirogane Naoto standing by the kitchen table, with the latter cutting vegetables on a cutting board and the former leaning over with a look of intense concentration on her face:

 

“Huh. So that’s how tough the exams are? I knew there’d be a physical test, but they throw that much book work at you?”

 

“They were a challenge for me,” Naoto replied, focused on the cutting board and vegetables in front of her and careful with the knife as she answered the questions, “but I’m not familiar with the candidacy exams for the local officers. Dojima-san would be a better source of information than I on that subject.”

 

“He won’t say,” Chie replied with a small frown. “Says it’s a better test if I go in not knowing what’s going to be on the exam. I mean, how does that even work? My teachers always gave us a review and an idea of what we were facing.”

 

“Then they may expect you to study and memorize all the material,” Naoto suggested. “Even in Inaba, they want the best candidates for the position. Especially considering what you might face in the line of duty.”

 

“I know,” Chie sighed, watching her kouhai’s swift, sure movements. “Doesn’t make it any easier though.”

 

…to Nanako and Hanamura Yosuke, sitting on the couch, and Amagi Yukiko, kneeling by the table.

 

“I’m glad we could get together so soon after Christmas,” Yukiko told them, cheeks still flushed from the cold. Because of her responsibilities at the Inn, she’d arrived just recently and was warming her hands on a mug of hot chocolate. “Honestly, I was expecting all of us to have plans.”

 

“My parents are working tonight,” Yosuke put in, stretching against the cushions, “so this is a lot better than leftovers and instant noodles. Besides, there’s no such thing as too many times to hang out together with good food, right Nanako-chan?”

 

The girl was leaning into the corner of the couch, dressed in her usual white and pink, but her hair bows were a festive green and red, and she nodded at him, but then looked past him with rapt interest. He followed her gaze, turning toward the kitchen, and chuckled when he saw what had her attention.

 

“I want to learn to cook more,” Nanako told him, happily looking over at where Souji and Naoto were hard at work. “Breakfast is always better when Big Bro’s here. And I want to cook for Dad when he’s around.”

 

Yukiko nodded with a smile. “That’s a great idea, Nanako-chan.”

 

“I’m sure Souji’d teach you if you asked him,” Yosuke told her. “I mean, you can do a lot worse for teachers. Or maybe Naoto – at least she’s using a cookbook. You could definitely learn from her.”

 

Because of how close the couch was to the table, Chie perked up at Nanako’s voice, and turned with a cold glare at Yosuke’s words. “Hey, you know that cake you were so big on last year? We helped make that too, so it’s not like everything we touch turns out bad.”

 

“You had Naoto helping you,” Yosuke pointed out. “So you can’t take credit for that. And if you’re so sure of yourself, which course are you covering?” Naoto glanced up, watching them bemusedly in her stained white apron while she was up to her elbows in salad mixings. Behind the girls was Souji, clad in a grey dress shirt and black slacks, both which were still mostly pristine, who broke off his conversation with Kanji to give Yosuke a sharp stare and a shake of the head.

 

“That’s just because she’s using a cookbook,” Chie shot back. “And because the table’s too small for more workers, or I’d be helping too.”

 

“Why was it her idea to use a cookbook in the first place?” Yosuke groaned, leaning back and rolling his eyes. Then he turned to his young companion with a lopsided smirk and a wink. “See, Nanako-chan? If your brother’s too busy, you can always ask Naoto to teach you. She’ll give you the best advice.”

 

“Don’t listen to him, Nanako-chan,” Chie replied with a tight smile, glaring at Yosuke. “Cooking’s like fighting – sometimes you just have to do it by feel and jump in, no matter what’s on the other side.”

 

“I don’t recall seeing a cake recipe that involved saffron and tarragon, like Rise-san suggested,” Naoto murmured, looking at the pages of the book Souji had given her. “Or Tabasco sauce. And while many artists claim a measure of intuition in producing their work, a steady grasp of the basics should be given priority to unguided experimentation.”

 

“Regardless of the process,” Souji cut in from behind them, “it’s most important that the food be cooked and finished so it can be eaten. There’s no point in trying for something and having it not work out.”

 

Naoto nodded and continued her cutting, glancing between her two senpai. “I agree. The end result is what matters. And Souji-senpai and I have things under control, Chie-senpai, so don’t let Yosuke-senpai provoke you.”

 

The martial artist bit her tongue for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. “You really should follow your own advice, Yosuke, or you’ll die at university from living off noodles and pocky.”

 

“Funny thing is, I still think I’d live longer than if I tried whatever you were trying to make,” Yosuke muttered as Nanako and Yukiko laughed.

 

“Just because you don’t know good food doesn’t mean mine’s always going to be terrible, you know. It just takes practice and the right ingredients, and I’ll bet you I can make meals as good as Souji.”

 

Yosuke shook his head after rolling his eyes. “How does that old saying go? ‘It’s alright to learn from your mistakes, but try not to learn so much’?”

 

There was a cold growl near the table, and Kanji broke off his own conversation to look at Souji. “Uh, Senpai? You’ve got all the knives, right?”

 

“That’ll do, you two,” Souji told them firmly. “No bloodshed before holiday meals – Dojima family rules.” Chie glared and Yosuke smirked, and it wasn’t until Nanako asked Yosuke a question about Junes that the tension began to fade. Naoto sighed and continued her chopping while Souji shook his head and continued talking to Teddie and Kanji.

 

And so the night continued. The tale had nearly caved in from all the food Souji had spent the day making, from French bread soaked in garlic and butter to North American stuffing and a turkey glistening in its own juices to an Italian salad and sauces, and a variety of other dishes from all across the globe. He’s even made a small curry dish at Dojima’s request, and Yosuke had made a point of grabbing some before it disappeared. “Now _this_ is real curry,” he murmured around the mouthful, ignoring the glare Chie gave him. Souji himself spent half the evening in the kitchen, trading out dishes and mixing drinks (always keeping a close eye on Teddie and Yukiko) and turning down offers to help. The only time he recruited the others was to clear off the table, and even that was secondary to the gifts the group had brought for Nanako, which were set carefully on the table while she was nearly buried in wrapping paper. Souji used the time to fetch a box from his room, and gave Naoto and Kanji a set of books, on machinery construction and needlework, respectively, some DVDs to Chie, a set of headphones to Yosuke, and a new phone for Teddie. Nanako had as much fun looking through the gifts he’d gotten for the others than she did with the ones given to her. “Hey, Big Bro?” she asked as she looked around the table, “didn’t you get anything for Big Sis Yukiko?”

 

Half the table burst into chuckles and suggestions and knowing looks. Souji took Yosuke’s ribbing and Chie’s laughs in stride, but it was Yukiko who answered the question. “He’s giving me my present later, Nanako-chan,” she told the girl, “but thank you for thinking about that.”

 

Dojima had to wonder what that meant, especially since his nephew refused to talk about it when the others asked. But then Souji brought out dessert and coffee, and the topics shifted again.

 

It was late in the evening before the others left, and most of them hadn’t wanted to move from where they were sitting after such a fine meal, but eventually they all got up and made promises with Souji to get together before January. Nanako was so tuckered out that she was sleepily saying her goodbyes from the couch, curled up against the arm. Dojima nodded and smiled as they left, returning a few bows from the group. As Souji said a few last farewells, the elder of the two walked over to the couch and watched his sleeping daughter. She was the picture of a happy evening: her cheeks were still a little flushed from her laughter over dinner, hair starting to escape the usual pink bows, and her hands tucked under her chin in loose fists. Every now and again she’d open and close her fingers and murmur something in her sleep before going still again. She looked younger in repose than she did up and around, small enough to fit on his arm. Finally he approached her, kneeling down next to the couch.

 

“Come on, Nanako,” Dojima whispered, shaking her gently. She didn’t make a sound then, just curled into the couch a little more and sighed in her sleep. Souji and Dojima watched her for a moment, matching smiles on their faces as they looked at the girl who’d become the cornerstone of their family. “I’ll put her to sleep,” the detective quietly told his nephew, leaning over to gently scoop his daughter up.

 

Souji nodded, not stopping his eyes from following her as his uncle took her to bed. He allowed himself a few moments to take in the peace of his home, still humming with the voices of his friends. The memories of this place never compared to actually being here, and while some might say that being around the same people so often was bound to get old, he never felt like they were an imposition. They were all his family.

 

“Need a break from your break?” Dojima inquired dryly as he returned, seeing his nephew where he’d left him and a relaxed smile on his face.

 

“Not really,” he replied, leaning against the kitchen table. “Just thinking.”

 

Dojima chuckled before heading toward the sink. “Coffee?”

 

“Sure.” While Dojima filled the pot and brought out the cream and sugar, Souji finished washing the plates and dishes. The kitchen was home to their tinkering and light conversation as they easily worked around each other in the small space. Finally the dishes were clean and Dojima carried two steaming mugs to the table. Souji dried off his hands and sank into the chair across from his uncle with a small sigh, not unlike Nanako’s before.

 

“So what’re your plans?” Dojima asked while they waited for their coffee to cool. “You still have correspondence courses to complete, right? What then?”

 

“Studying, part-time work, get ready for the entrance exams in the fall,” Souji replied, stretching in place. “I imagine I’ll be here a lot though. Most of my studies will be online, so I’ll be around to help out around the house if you need it.”

 

“You’re not our maid, you know,” Dojima commented with a smirk, leaning back in his chair and folding his fingers, resting his left arm on the chair’s back. “You can do whatever you like while you’re here. But if you’re going to be around for the rest of the year, I guess we can expect more visits from your friends?”

 

“Probably. I’ll make sure they stay under control.” Souji sipped at his coffee before carefully setting it down, but his hands froze on it and a flash of something crossed his face. It looked like a mix of surprise and wariness, but then it subsided behind an apprehensive set to his features.

 

Thinking he was just winding down from the evening, his uncle chuckled. “It’s alright. If I had any concerns about it, you would’ve heard about them by now. Same with Amagi Yukiko.” The mention of her name made Souji blink and stare into his coffee. “If you want to see her here, then I’m alright with that. You don’t need my permission, and I trust your judgment.” Now there was a distinct _tap_ ping from the other side of the table, and Dojima’s eyebrow raised while he took a long swig of coffee. “Something wrong?”

 

“Well, about her,” Souji muttered while still tapping his mug. He was at a loss for words, and tried to cover up his fidgeting with a pull of caffeine. “I’m planning on helping Yukiko around the Inn for a few hours on New Year’s Eve,” he told Dojima finally. “I’ll make sure Nanako’s taken care of before then if you have to work.”

 

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” he replied with a sip of coffee. “I’ve already booked some time off. A few rookies owe me some favours, so there won’t be any last-minute hitches.”

 

“I see,” Souji commented, tapping a nail against the handle of his mug. “That’s good. I’m sure Nanako will like that.”

 

“Yeah.” Dojima stared blankly at his nephew, and for a moment it felt like they were in the interrogation room at the station. The nervous taps, the unsteady breathing, how he was shifting and fidgeting in his seat. After all the things his nephew had seen and done during his time in Inaba, what was making him so nervous now?

 

“I talked to Yukiko earlier,” he began, carefully choosing his words. “And she said her parents would be around on New Year’s. And I was wondering if you had any plans for that evening.”

 

“I was planning on spending it with Nanako,” Dojima replied, keeping his face neutral. “Unless something else comes up.”

 

“I… well, I was wondering if you could stop by the Inn if you get a chance,” Souji told him in a rush.

 

The elder of the two blinked a few times, then concealed his knowing smile behind another drink of coffee. “I see. Was there a particular reason you wanted me to visit?”

 

“Yukiko’s parents have been asking about me,” the younger man confessed, “and it seems that they’d like to speak to a relative of mine, as a character reference or something. And since you’re here, and you know me pretty well, I was hoping you could do me a favour.”

 

Dojima couldn’t help it. He chuckled at Souji’s fidgeting and nervousness, and broke out laughing when the teen turned a half-hearted glare at him. “Meeting her parents, are you?”

 

“I met them back in May,” Souji replied shortly, looking toward the kitchen sink and drumming his fingers on the table. “Her mother seemed alright with me, but her father… that was a different matter.”

 

“Runs in the family,” Dojima told him through his mirth, and explained further when he caught his nephew’s curious glance. “Chisato’s parents were a mixed bag when we first started going out, but it was the other way around for me. Her father was in my corner from the moment I opened the door, and her mother never had a good word to say to me. Still,” he continued with a grin, “this is a good challenge for you.”

 

“I think I could do without it,” Souji replied with a low groan and a yawn. “Still, could you talk to them for me?”

 

The detective leaned closer, never losing his grin. “Are you sure you want me to talk to them so soon? I think the challenge would be good for you. I’ve seen you charm the fangs out of a rattlesnake, so working with the Amagis will keep you from taking their daughter for granted.”

 

“Do you really think I’d do that with Yukiko?” the teen asked flatly.

 

“You never know. Not now or any time soon, but who knows where the future will go? Lots of couples take each other for granted after they’ve been together for a while.” Dojima finished off his coffee and pushed himself out of his chair. “If you are going to be working there, then you should get some rest. I imagine you’re going to have a long few days soon. And let me know what times work for the Amagis,” he told Souji as he passed him on the way to his room.

 

There was a sigh of relief from the table, and a _creak_ as a body leaned back, relaxed, into the chair. “Thanks, Uncle Dojima. I owe you one.”

 

\--

 

And so it was that Souji had slipped into the Amagi Inn on New Year’s Eve, using the side entrance and dodging the many guests in the foyers and sleeping quarters. Yukiko hadn’t been clear on exactly what she needed help with, but he got the impression that whatever it entailed, there would be time to spend with her. And that was more than enough to convince him.

 

However, for all the support he got from his girlfriend and the rest of the staff, Amagi Katsushiro had been particularly curt when they met in the hallway. “If you’re going to be here, then you may as well make yourself useful. There are some boxes and crates that need to be moved – Yukiko can show you where they are,” the man informed him with dark eyes and a grim scowl. “And I’m sure Yukimura will have work for you in the kitchen. Make sure you don’t disturb our customers when you’re working.”

 

The temperature slowly rose after the man left, and Souji shook his head. It seemed the man hadn’t warmed up to him in his absence. They’d had their misunderstandings perhaps, but couldn’t he work past them? Yukiko, on the other hand, took the time to give directions or suggestions whenever she could, busy as she was with running the Inn on behalf of her parents ‘for practice’, and while playing the part of a packhorse hadn’t been what he’d expected for the evening, he was willing to take what he could get.

 

While he was hauling boxes from one storage room or the other to the different parts of the Inn, she took the time to guide him to where they needed to go until he knew where he was going, and even after that. While she was walking in front of him, he let his body go on autopilot and his mind wander. And when his eyes dropped below her shoulders, he couldn’t help but notice the way her kimono was hugging the swells of her hips and swaying of her rear as she walked. Maybe his eyes needed to be checked, but he swore that she’d grown since the last time he’d really looked at her. A little taller, and her figure was definitely taking on a curve that was harder than ever to ignore. He didn’t like thinking of his girlfriend in the purely physical sense, but he couldn’t deny that now she was more beautiful than ever. And when she looked back at him, he pulled his eyes back up and smiled until they reached the room.

 

He’d bent down to drop off one crate and pick up another, this one with linens, and turned as he rose, looking to her for directions again. Her eyes shot up to meet his, and he couldn’t help but notice the small blush and smile she wore as she directed him down the halls. He took in the view she offered as she walked in front of him, but noticed that the back-and-forth motion was more distinct this time, like she was trying to get his attention. But what had she seen that amused her? What was the joke?

 

He’d been up in his own head when they reached a crossroads in the corridor, and ended up passing by the turn. He came back to his surroundings when Yukiko called him back, but when he turned, he caught where her eyes had been before they rose to meet his. If he had to guess, she was looking at him around waist level.

 

Souji didn’t bother hiding his smile. Clever girl. It seemed that two could play the game, and she wasn’t going to let him have all the fun. The smile she gave him in return was more appreciative than appropriate, and she didn’t look away when he looked at her knowingly. “Shall we?” he inquired with a nod down the hall. She turned to walk next to him and they continued to their destination, hiding their wandering eyes and appraising looks behind idle chatter.

 

She was called away when they dropped off the last crate, but they’d had their fun for the time being. He was still admiring her, and her hips and backside, when Yukimura, the Inn’s head chef, found him and asked if he knew his way around a cutting board. Yukiko was already around the corner, so Souji didn’t bother with words – he just started walking toward the kitchen. He was set on washing and cutting duties when they got there, despite his protests that he could do more. “It’s what we need done for now,” Yukimura explained, “and there aren’t enough burners for more cooks.” So Souji rolled up his sleeves and began washing and peeling and cutting in the middle of the spacious kitchens.

 

Of course, being distinctive and so readily available was tantamount to an unspoken offer of scrutiny by all the Inn staff, and he’d never have believed that the cleaners would have a reason to pass through the main kitchens, clear across the Inn grounds, until he heard them pitch in with the questions. He focused on cutting meats and stirring pots to keep busy while they all took turns noting different things to each other and prodding him curiously. When he finally could get in a word edgewise, asking Yukimura what else needed his attention, the chef just shrugged and went back to giving orders. It didn’t escape Souji’s attention that while the kitchen staff were ordered around like recruits on a training course, the others were exempt from the head chef’s commands and observations. And they, of course, were the ones asking the questions and making the comments.

 

“Yukiko-chan talks about you all the time, so where have you been until now? If Dojima-san’s your uncle, where does the rest of your family live?”

 

“I hope you know what you’re getting into – Katsushiro-san hasn’t had much good to say about you so far.”

 

“Don’t let that bother you. Ryoko-san talked about the flowers you sent Yukiko-chan, so you probably have her on your side.”

 

“Ahhh, so you sent that bouquet. You made a good choice, using such a wide selection. Who taught you hanakotoba?”

 

The queries and comments might have gone on longer had silence not struck and rippled through the staff like a rock to water when Katsushiro entered the room. Workers in the kitchen went back to their duties, still talking among themselves, while the others were soon nowhere to be seen. “How is Seta-kun performing, Yukimura-san?” the man asked in a tone that was anything but welcoming.

 

“Quite well for the moment, Katsushiro-san,” was the chef’s smooth reply. “He follows instructions well and adapts without needing very much time.” Souji shook his head, keeping to himself how quickly having people talk about him like he wasn’t in the room could kill his mood. He stared back when Yukiko’s father looked at him, unblinking.

 

“If you’re done here, I’d like to talk to you.” And Katsushiro turned toward the door, not waiting for a response. Souji grimaced and checked his tongue before following the man to a simple meeting room. Katsushiro closed the doors on his end, and gestured for Souji to do the same. After he did, he knelt on the floor before the table, staring at the man without fear. Katsushiro’s dark gaze pinned him in place, but the younger man didn’t flinch. Both were silent for a moment until the older of the two spoke. “You weren’t here long enough in May to make much of an impression. Now’s as good a time as any to correct that.”

 

Souji felt the chill off the man, and instead of warning him off, it just got on his nerves. He could understand the man being protective of his daughter and skeptical of her suitors, but this was pushing it. “Respectfully, Amagi-san, if there’s something you’d like to discuss, then let’s discuss it.”

 

It was hard to tell, but Souji thought he saw the man’s mouth quirk a little, like he was suppressing a smile. “To be associated with the Amagi family means accepting our tradition and living up to our expectations. Yukiko’s going to inherit the Inn at some point. Not soon, but eventually, and she’ll need skilled people around her to help her. While I can’t see why, she’s rather fond of you. It’s logical that she’ll want you to support her when that happens. I want you to tell me how you plan to do that.”

 

“I grew up around businessmen, Amagi-san. I know my way around budgets and customers better than I do my own clothes. And, if I’m able to, I plan on using those skills to help Yukiko with the Inn.”

 

“That’s a rather tame show of commitment, Seta-kun,” Katsushiro snapped. “If you plan on helping her, you’ll need to do better than just paying lip service and telling me what you think I want to hear; it won’t help her if you end up being a dead weight.”

 

Souji couldn’t help the near-glare that twisted his face. That was pushing it, but now he could take the gloves off. If the man wanted to see what he could do, then it was only polite to give a stellar performance. And it was high time listening to his parents for so long came in handy for something. “You want me to talk business, Amagi-san? Because I’d be more than happy to if you have the time.”

 

“That sounds like a challenge,” Katsushiro noted with a brittle smile.

 

“It is if you want to take it as one.”

 

Yukiko’s father chuckled coldly and gestured to the younger man. “Very well then. Show me.”

 

He’d been categorizing the details since Yukiko had mentioned visiting the Inn at the Christmas party, so he didn’t need any notes. Instead, he took a deep breath to collect his thoughts and began, looking Katsushiro square in the eye. “The hospitality industry, not just here, is a fickle field for investment and performance. You have a strong foundation in terms of your employees and reputation, and the Inn itself is sturdy and very well maintained, but there are always external factors. Like keeping large reservations on schedule, having other groups to make up the difference if some cancel at the last minute, and finding the space for everyone if they all show up at once. Then performance of the staff when things are busy, making sure the service is excellent regardless of how many guests are here and making connections with new clients so that there’s a supply of new business. Inaba might not have much of a draw by itself, but there is the rail line that goes through to Okina City, not to mention how much _ryokan_ can be advertised in cities on either side of that rail line, like Tsuyama, Mimasaka and Okayama.

 

“Then there’s the matter of supplies. Not just for what can come from anywhere, like food, cutlery and other raw materials, which you can buy from Junes, but also for the things that require a more personal touch. That’s why your family has such a strong working relationship with Tatsumi Textiles and Marukyu Tofu. It’s why, if I had to guess, Junes made several overtures to you when they first opened. And you probably haven’t taken them up on those offers, even when they became more and more attractive from a business perspective.”

 

Katsushiro’s eyes twitched when Junes was mentioned, and Souji could see a small, grudging smile struggle its way across his lips. He might not say it, but that was what he’d expected to hear. But he showed none of that in his voice. “Continue.”

 

“The topic of clientele is a more varied one than it initially seems,” Souji proceeded without hesitation, “because keeping customers and attaining new ones is not only the whole point of running a business in the service industry, it’s also the most fluid aspect of the business itself. Most companies rely on local events, regular customers and times of the season, and new businesses opening in neighbouring cities as a means of advertising their services. Because Inaba’s a bit remote, a new angle would need to be taken to have the same effect, being an increase in business, without requiring the other variables to change. We can’t rely on other businesses to open in Okina City, after all, and leave the rest to hope and luck.”

 

“Perhaps. If that were the case, how would you address it?”

 

“There are a number of ways, but most of my ideas involve word of mouth and communication with other business circles, tapping into younger markets than what you have now so that when Yukiko inherits the Inn, her client base will be sustainable.” Souji deliberately kept his own part in the future scenario to himself, and Katsushiro didn’t miss it if the narrow glare was any indication. “And it’s not to say that your clients won’t support her when she does take over, but more that they might not be in a position to patronize the Inn in ten years, for example. So she’ll need to tap a younger circle of customers, expand her reach if she wants to maintain the status quo, or even grow larger. I know people who can help with that, open connections to groups that might remain untapped otherwise.”

 

The suspicion was obvious in Katsushiro’s eyes, but so was the grudging respect that had wormed past his defences. He stared at the younger man for a moment, then checked his watch before rising and walking toward the door. “Very well, Seta-kun. You’ve made your point. I have some things to look after. You can go back to work.”

 

Souji bowed politely to the man, holding back a triumphant smile as best he could. “Of course, Amagi-san. It was a pleasure.” He was aiming for stoic and polite, but he was sure some satisfaction was in his voice. Katsushiro grunted once as he passed and slid the door shut behind him. Souji allowed himself to bask in the small victory for a few moments before exiting the room and heading back toward the kitchen. He had just turned a corner, however, when he nearly bumped into Yukiko, who was leaning against the wall with empty hands. Her working apron was missing and she wasn’t flushed or looking down any hall of the corridor intersection. She was off the clock, he deduced, or as off the clock as she ever was. She stepped closer, head tilted and arms linked behind her back. “You were talking with Daddy?”

 

“Discussing business,” he replied diplomatically, not letting the man’s attitude sour his tone. Yukiko always brought out the best in him. “It seemed like he had some concerns about how well I understood the resources needed for the Inn to thrive the way it does.”

 

“He was testing you?”

 

“It did seem that way.”

 

“So you’re done talking with him?”

 

“I believe so. He said he had something else to deal with, and suggested I go back to what I was doing before.” He shrugged and quirked an eyebrow. “I was heading back to the kitchen, unless I get a better offer.”

 

“I have one for you,” she replied swiftly. “An idea on how we can spend the evening,” she added with a spark of mischief in her eye and a small smile that reminded him of her mother. “It’s New Year’s Eve. And I think the staff can look after the Inn on their own for a while.”

 

He took a moment to switch gears and let what she said sink in before leaning closer, a slow smile spreading across his face. He loved his girlfriend, and he could admit that to himself without a moment’s pause, but there were aspects of her that he was finding absolutely irreplaceable. And this part of her, canny and ready to bend the rules when she wanted, was quickly catching his attention and holding on tight. His eyes matched hers and his voice lowered, taking on a conspiratorial note. “I’m all ears. What did you have in mind?”

 

“I want to visit the shrine,” she told him. “Tonight. So we can see the new year and make our wishes. Just the two of us.”

 

He didn’t have to think about his answer; it was on his lips as soon as she stopped speaking. “Sounds good. And with the moon out, it shouldn’t be hard to see,” Souji replied quietly, taking in the moment for as long as it lasted. She really was beautiful when she smiled like that. “Not to mention that the crowds should be gone by now.”

 

She nodded and began backing away. “I’ll meet you at the side doors. Wait for me. I want to get changed first.”

 

\--

 

It was an easy mistake to make, thinking that Amagi Ryoko’s staid smile and impeccable manners were the product of a mind restricted by tradition and protocol, too narrow for subterfuge. She had a beauty, many would say, that rivalled that of a classical painting. And like a painting, all that one needed to know about her was on display for any who looked. An easy mistake, and often a critical one, that she encouraged by allowing her husband to tend to the more direct business matters while she observed and planned at his side. People knew to watch their words with him, but were rarely so careful around her, and every mistake they made was an opportunity she could capitalize on.

 

It was how she’d dodged the various minefields that were the various engagement offers in her youth. It was how the Inn, for all the troubles they might have had in the past, was flourishing and growing every year, no matter how much Yukiko fretted over the subject. And it was why she’d chosen to sit back and watch her daughter’s blossoming relationship with Souji-kun, content to wait and see what he did and how Yukiko responded. So far, she had nothing to complain about.

 

But, for all her talent and experience, she needed none of those sharp observations and honed insights to know that her husband was as cross as a tiger with sore teeth. His quiet muttering and tight, sharp pacing, always turning in place mere inches from the vase where Souji’s elegant bouquet to their daughter sat, filled the room more than his considerable size already did.

 

“How did your talk with Souji-kun go?” she asked finally from where she was working on the ledgers. It didn’t take a fortune teller to figure out what had put him into such a mood in so little time. And, predictable as a metronome, his eyes snapped up in a glare fierce enough to strip the lacquer off the wood floors. A glare that turned back to the floor when she stared back at him coolly. He continued his pacing, less angry but still edgy and anything but smooth.

 

Finally Ryoko sighed and turned in her seat to address him. “Why does it bother you?” she asked softly, not letting his agitation sway her.

 

“Why doesn’t it bother you?” he shot back, finally pulling out of his fuming and turning to face her.

 

“Because I see how happy she is,” was her quiet response, and any reply he had died off as he stared at her. “And because I trust her. If I thought Souji-kun was wrong for her, he wouldn’t ever set foot on these grounds again. But I don’t. Yukiko’s growing up in ways I never thought I’d see, and more importantly, she’s never been this happy, even with Chie and her other friends. You saw her earlier, didn’t you? She’s not that happy just because it’s New Year’s Eve; it’s because of him. If she believes in him that much, is it really so wrong to give him an honest chance?”

 

“You think they’re ready for that?”

 

His words were sharp enough to cut glass, but Amagi Ryoko saw past them and caught a glimmer of something in his eyes. She didn’t need time to interpret it, because she’d felt it herself months ago: fear. Her husband, for all the bite he showed the world, was still a father with a daughter who was almost entirely grown up. A daughter he had been looking out for since she was old enough to crawl, had been protecting from the world as she grew in beauty and stature, and had been supporting since the day she first called him “Papa” or “Daddy.” And now he was watching the woman she’d become move forward with her own life when it felt like only last week that she’d been in braids and pink dresses, asking to keep a stray puppy and bringing a rambunctious, short-haired tomboy over to play.

 

Ryoko stepped up to her husband and slid her arms around him, slipping into a loose embrace. He didn’t bother trying to keep up his harsh façade by that point. Instead he melted against her, returning the gesture and resting his head on hers. He tightened his arms around her, holding her close. So close that she could hear his heartbeat. She returned the squeeze and let him soak up the calm she felt. “When did she grow up so much?” he asked her, sounding wistful and a little lost. “When did she start getting interested in boys and skipping classes to visit them on the other side of the country?”

 

“She’s growing up,” Ryoko told him, just as quiet. “She’s found something she wants, and she’s holding onto it as much as she can. You can’t blame her for that.”

 

“You never went that far,” he noted quietly.

 

She chuckled, a sharp, canny look to her eyes. “I never needed to. Everything I wanted was polite enough to come to me.”

 

“Would you have gone to Tokyo to see some guy you liked though?”

 

She pulled back a little and looked him in the eye. Another time, she would have told him it depended on how broad the guy’s shoulders were, or how tight his ass was. But her husband wasn’t looking for jokes, so she gave him the truth. “No. I would have gone further. Much further.”

 

“And you’re alright with that?”

 

“She’s not a child anymore,” Ryoko pointed out. “There will be a day when she’ll take over running the Inn, and she’ll have to shoulder the decisions without us.”

 

“And Seta will be here to help her,” he noted tonelessly. “Do you think he’s right for her? After everything he’s been involved in, from the police and those murders to Risette, don’t you think she could be making a mistake?”

 

“If he’s capable enough, then he’ll help her when she takes over,” she told him. “And I think Souji-kun cares for her, no matter what happens around him. Because he doesn’t seem like he looks for trouble on his own. You talked to him; what do you think? Does he really seem so bad for her?”

 

He was silent, looking at nothing for a moment, then gave a heavy sigh. “He knows business and economics.” Ryoko had to smile – much as Souji-kun might impress her husband, the man wouldn’t be caught dead encouraging him. “If he sharpens those skills, then Yukiko won’t need any help running the Inn.”

 

_And won’t need us._ Ryoko heard the words even though he hadn’t said them. “You know that’s not true,” she replied immediately, narrowing her eyes and tapping him authoritatively on the chest. “She may have grown up, yes, but she’ll always be our daughter. And you’ll always be her father. There will never be a day when she won’t need you, because that’s not something that will ever change. If it isn’t for support, it will be for advice or help that we can give her. Don’t ever think she won’t need us.”

 

He looked at her for several long moments, then chuckled and gave a nod before pulling her close again. “I suppose you’re right. I just wish she had better taste in boys.”

 

“There have been others worse than Souji-kun,” she told him. “He’s not as bad as you want him to be, no matter how many stories you’ve heard about him.” He gave a grunt, but didn’t speak again. “Besides,” she continued with a knowing smile after a few moments of unbroken peace, “is that really why you don’t like him? Because he’s an unknown variable from the city and has succeeded where no one else has?”

 

Katsushiro pulled back, looking at her with a puzzled frown. “What other reason is there?”

 

“He doesn’t remind you of anyone?” she teased as she leaned against him more. “A certain supply delivery man who refused to take ‘no’ for an answer from his company’s client’s daughter?”

 

He looked startled for a moment, then tried to glare at her even as his scowl cracked into a grin. “I was more reliable than he’s proving to be,” he insisted. “You never saw me on the front covers of celebrity magazines. Or spending time with teen idols and hell raisers in biker gangs.”

 

She chuckled, a teasing set to her lips. “But he’s no less dedicated. And if I recall correctly, you had to work past your share of suitors and misconceptions. My parents thought you were… do you remember the words they used?” she asked slyly, pretending to forget.

 

“‘Reckless, loud, and bad-mannered,’” he supplied with a wry smirk. “‘Completely unsuited for the management of a dive bar, never mind an Inn with a rich history.’”

 

“I believe my father hated you after we were married too,” she continued with a twinkle in her eye.

 

Katsushiro grunted, finally breaking from his gloom. For all the grief his in-laws had given him, they were easily his greatest source of humour now that those days were over. There was no denying that he’d contemplated murder when they were doing everything in their power to keep him away from his wife, but now he could look at the memories and understand a little of where they were coming from. And take pride that he’d won in the end.

 

“And you came through it for the better,” she noted with a smile. “From a delivery man and trucker driver to the Inn’s assistant manager, fighting every step of the way.”

 

“It was worth it,” Katsushiro assured her, leaning in for a kiss that his wife happily gave. A child and twenty years of marriage hadn’t changed how easily she could get under his skin and brush away his problems.

 

“Do you feel better now?” she inquired as the kiss ended, resting her hands on his hips.

 

His lips quirked, almost into a smile, then he gave a dry chuckle. “I will be,” he replied, grazing her cheek with his thumb. “I don’t have to like him though, do I?”

 

“It’s your choice, but don’t let Yukiko hear you say that,” she advised with a smirk that lit her eyes up like fireflies.

 

There was a series of knocks at the door, stopping him from responding. “Excuse me,” Kasai called through the door. “Dojima-san has arrived. He’s waiting in the east foyer.”

 

“Thank you, Kasai,” Ryoko replied, still smiling at her reticent husband. “We’ll be with him shortly. How is Yukiko handling the guests?”

 

There was a slight pause, and when Kasai answered, there was a smile in her tone. “She has been doing quite well. I was about to see if she required any help now, actually.”

 

“Of course. Thank you,”

 

\--

 

It wasn’t Dojima’s first time to the Amagi Inn. Last time he’d been here, it had been for business. Collecting statements and trying to get answers out of concerned parents hadn’t given him time to become acquainted with them, and while he could sympathize with them for being worried about their only daughter, he’d had other things on his mind.

 

Now he could enjoy the ambiance of the _ryokan_ while he waited, breathing in the scent of incense and fresh snow. The room wasn’t particularly large, but it was certainly clean, and had a lived-in feeling with a low table that reminded him of his own living room. He pulled his jacket off and began going over his words, noting for the fourth time that evening how odd the situation felt. He’d expected to have this discussion with the first guy who wanted to ask Nanako out (and he was already sharpening barbs for the day it happened), but he’d never expected to have to speak to a girl’s parents on behalf of his nephew. That said, it wasn’t as onerous a task as he let Souji think it was – more than anything, it reinforced in his mind that the promise they’d made before was still in effect. That Souji and Nanako were his family, and no price was too high for them.

 

Of course, only Nanako was allowed to know that – it was good for Souji to have to sweat a little sometimes.

 

The door on the far end of the room slid open and revealed the Amagis. He took the spare moment to go over the details of the pair before he smiled and nodded to them. If there were ever someone who didn’t have the right to judge a couple on their appearances, it was him. Chisato had reminded him of that more than once, often when they were going for family pictures. But he couldn’t help smiling to himself as he matched gazes with the imposing Amagi Katsushiro and the polite Amagi Ryoko. The man reminded him of so many other local businessmen in Inaba, with that firm veneer of authority and pride, but Dojima caught the respect in his eyes. At least he wouldn’t try to throw his weight around, or hadn’t yet. And his wife, well, he’d heard enough about her to know better than to underestimate her.

 

“Detective Dojima-san,” Ryoko greeted with a polite bow, which he smoothly returned. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Please, sit, make yourself comfortable.”

 

“Thank you,” he replied, sinking to the floor and resting in front of the table. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me. I know this is a busy time of year for you.”

 

Katsushiro had nodded in greeting and took a seat across from him. “Not at all,” Ryoko answered as she lowered herself next to her husband, with considerably more grace than either man had. “It can’t be a simple matter for a detective to set time aside for a personal visit. Thank you for the opportunity.”

 

“Especially if it clarifies some things about Seta,” Katsushiro added in a neutral tone, dark eyes serious but steady. “We have some questions that Yukiko feels you would be able to answer, and he’s your nephew, if I recall.”

 

Ryoko glanced at her husband for a split-second, something unreadable in her eyes, but continued without a hitch. “Souji-kun’s involvement with Yukiko has us curious about some things, Dojima-san, particularly since we know so little about him personally. It’s made us curious about him, especially since he’s gained so much attention in a relatively short time.”

 

“I understand,” Dojima replied with a wry smile. “Souji’s made a habit of standing out, when he’s here and when he isn’t, so I doubt you’re taking well to him getting involved with your daughter. I understand how you feel; I’ll probably be the same way when Nanako’s her age.”

 

At the mention of his daughter, Ryoko nodded in recognition. “Yukiko’s talked about Nanako-chan before, and she was a delight when she stayed the night last October. Very mature and well-mannered. She’s doing well, I hope?”

 

“Quite well, and thank you for asking.”

 

“I’d heard about her incident last year,” she ventured carefully. “I’m glad she’s alright after all that.”

 

“Nanako’s a fighter,” Dojima replied proudly. “Nothing keeps her down for long. She was itching to get out of the hospital and play in the snow long before I was. And Souji’s been through the mill, and I’ve never heard him complain, so she comes by it pretty honestly.”

 

“You touched on a point before, Dojima-san,” Katsushiro brought up, “that you felt I might object to your nephew seeing our daughter. Why do you assume that? Or has he mentioned our meeting back in May?”

 

Dojima chuckled. “Souji never talked much when he got here two years ago, so it might sound strange, but he has a way of making waves wherever he goes, and with whoever happens to be around. Whether it was making new friends here or getting involved in things that normal students wouldn’t bother with, he’s changed things and people around him for as long as he’s been here. So it’s easy to see why you might think he’s a troublemaker or unreliable, and if I didn’t see it myself, I wouldn’t believe that things just happen around him the way they do. But it looks like he was born under the right sign to live an interesting life.

 

“Whatever happens around him though, I know that he always works for what’s best for his friends.” The detective gave a dry, almost grudging smile. “Even when those friends are high-profile celebrities or teenagers well on their way toward a criminal record. He has a way with people that I don’t think I’ll ever understand.”

 

“You feel quite strongly about him,” Ryoko noted. “He’s lucky to have such supporting family.”

 

“Nanako wouldn’t let me sleep at night if I didn’t stick up for him,” Dojima told them sardonically. “She’s come a long way since he moved here, and I can’t take too much credit for it.”

 

“All that aside,” Katsushiro brought up, less tense now but still suspicious, “he seems reluctant to bring up his parents as a topic. Is there something we should know about him? I want to see our daughter happy, but we do have a reputation to consider.”

 

Dojima took a deep breath and tapped the table in front of him. He was impressed they’d waited this long to ask, but it didn’t make taking sides any easier. “I see your point, but when it comes to our family, there isn’t a quick answer. Souji’s become pretty distant from his parents, and last time I talked to my sister, it wasn’t hard to see why. They don’t communicate very much, and none of them seem ready to change that. So if you’re hoping that my sister or her husband will be in touch sometime soon, then you’ll probably be disappointed. There’s just too much between them and Souji to change right now, and that shouldn’t reflect on him. He’s done what he can, but if they won’t meet him halfway, then there’s not much anyone can do. That’s why I think he cares about his friends so much. They’re like another family to him, and they’ve all gone through a lot together.”

 

“So you don’t think he’s hiding anything?” Katsushiro asked directly.

 

“Not where your daughter’s concerned,” Dojima replied. “There’s not a doubt in my mind. He might still have university ahead of him and years of education before he gets to where he wants to be, but I think he’d do it all for her without a second thought. And your daughter has always struck me as smart enough to know when someone’s flattering her with ulterior motives.”

 

“She is,” Katsushiro replied, and all his gruffness couldn’t hide the pride in his voice.

 

“In the end though, you won’t find anyone who cares more about his friends and loved ones than Souji. He doesn’t do things the way you or I might, but he’s not any less sincere for it. If he’s dedicating himself to your daughter, then there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll do anything to make it work.”

 

“Do you think it will be enough?” Ryoko asked calmly. “I don’t doubt his dedication, but sometimes life doesn’t turn out the way we want it to. How would Souji react if his circumstances changed outside his ability to control them?”

 

Dojima gave a short laugh. “I can’t think of anything that could affect him that much, honestly. He’s not someone who lets details or problems stop him when he has a goal in mind. As far as I see it, it’s not a question of if he makes his university career and ambitions work, but instead just a question of how. And no matter what happens, I’m sure he’ll land on his feet.”

 

The two shared a long look, and Dojima got the feeling they were both coming to the same point. What that point was, he’d never know, but he had a feeling similar to when he and Chisato had talked about their days before marriage. If that were the case, he decided with a small smile, then Souji would be fine.

 

“Thank you for your insight on this matter, Dojima-san,” Ryoko told him as they looked back across the table. “It’s encouraging to hear so much honest praise from one of Souji-kun’s relatives.”

 

“Of course. Is there anything else you need to know?”

 

“I don’t think so. We need to discuss the information you’ve given us now.”

 

Just then there were several knocks on the door, and it slid open several inches to reveal the worker outside. Dojima recognized her as the one who’d greeted him at the lobby when he arrived. “Pardon the interruption, Ryoko-san, but are you nearly done with your meeting?”

 

“Yes, we’re just finishing up. Is Yukiko still handling everything? Or has she turned in for the night?”

 

“About that,” Kasai told them slowly and biting her lip, like she was looking for the right words. Or trying to keep from laughing. “She saw to her responsibilities and chose to leave the Inn with Souji-kun. She mentioned wanting to ‘see the new year together,’ so they’ve been absent for some time.”

 

Ryoko was hiding a smile behind her hand before Kasai was done talking while Katsushiro’s face went dark. After all the progress they’d just made, this was hardly a way for Souji to show how reliable he was. Dojima shook his head and smiled; his nephew truly had the oddest luck of anyone he knew. “I think I can find them for you,” he offered. “As a gesture of good faith. And it’ll keep them from having to walk back here in the cold.”

 

“That would be appreciated, Dojima-san,” Ryoko responded, her eyes still dancing with amusement when she glanced to her husband. Propriety wouldn’t let Katsushiro say anything disparaging about Souji, now that a decision had been made. Sharp woman, that one. “And thank you for your time this evening.”

 

“Of course. Thank you for having me. I shouldn’t be too long.” And he grabbed his jacket, nodding to them once more before he made his way towards the front doors.

 

He was thinking many things as he walked toward his jeep. Like how the Amagi girl’s personality made more sense now that he’d had a conversation with her parents. And that it was understandable as to why Souji had been careful in wording his request. He had to give her parents credit – that had to be one of the first times he’d seen his nephew seem genuinely worried about something, even more so than when Souji’d been invited to meet them seven months ago.

 

But mostly, he was thinking how Souji had missed his calling as an actor. Because his timing was truly something to marvel at.

 

\--

 

If he’d been thinking about it, he probably would have recognized that what they were doing was a bad idea. A really bad idea. Even after standing up to her father and using his business acumen for something other than amusing the rich snobs his parents called ‘coworkers’, and even after asking Dojima to take some time out of his evening to put in a good word for him with the Amagis, he knew that sneaking off with Yukiko when he was trying to get her parents to give him the time of day was an act of self-mutilation that would have impressed Vincent Van Gogh.

 

But he wasn’t thinking about it, and hadn’t been since she’d met him at the side door of the Inn in her kimono. She’d wanted to leave once she got there, but had to tell him twice because he was floored by how she looked.

 

He’d seen her in kimonos before. It was part of who she was. The first time they’d really talked, she’d been wearing one, and of all the times the girls had dressed up during the days of their TV world excursions, she fit them the best. She always had measured steps and easy breathing when Chie and Rise fidgeted and tried for grace, but just ended up fighting with their clothes. So it shouldn’t have surprised him that she was wearing a kimono to celebrate the end of one year and the beginning of a new one. She’d been in her Inn kimono most of the night, so, indeed, there should have been no surprise at all.

 

Knowing that intellectually, however, was nothing like seeing it in person. Her usual kimonos, pink or blue, had an air of simplicity to them, appealing without needing to stand out or be flashy. In contrast, what she was wearing when she met him was made to be noticed. The deep red reminded him of her usual sweaters and barrette, which was absent in favour of a hair band with ornamental balls of the same shade, holding her hair up in a high ponytail he’d never seen her wear before, but was fast becoming a fan of. He saw the earrings he bought for her, standing out against her pale skin, and the colours of the beads matched her attire perfectly. The flowers and sakura branches design was familiar, but was done in near-black instead of white or silver, and it set off her hair beautifully. The long sleeves added a stately, almost antique formality to her that was so present in her personality, but that he’d never seen in her choice of clothing before.

 

Now he was seeing it, and he couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t remember most of the trip to the shrine, nor did he notice how cold it was until they got there. He was too busy watching her. “That really suits you,” he told her finally, tightening his hand on hers.

 

“Thanks,” she replied with a smile, leaning in closer and resting against him. To keep warm, of course. They took the steps slowly, enjoying their time together too much to rush things.

 

The shrine might have been host to New Year’s celebrations earlier in the evening, but by the time they got there, the grounds were deserted. Instead the _torii_ glowed in the light of a half moon and a clear sky full of stars. It had seemed dim enough on the way over, but the moonlight hitting the snow gave the area a hazy radiance that felt like he was walking in a dream. With Yukiko there next to him, her arm wrapped around his, it was far closer to a dream than reality, and only the sharp chill around them convinced him otherwise.

 

“Shall we make a wish?” she inquired, bringing him out of his thoughts. He nodded, and they headed toward the offering box. Souji pulled some coins out of his wallet and tossed them in, and they both clasped their hands and made their prayers. Without any other people around, and with the sharp chill in the air, it was hard to say how long they were there, but Souji noted that his nose had gone cold in the meantime. They both stepped back from the box and looked at each other, and Souji noted that her eyes seemed darker than usual, especially when she stepped a little closer.

 

“I left my phone at home,” she admitted without looking or sounding sorry in the least. “Is there still time before the new year?”

 

He pulled his phone out and checked the time, chuckling when he saw the display. 12:49AM. “Looks like we missed it.”

 

She gave a low hum, not looking bothered by the information. “Oh well. Next year, right? We’ll just have to make sure we make the most of the time we have.”

 

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” he replied as he wrapped an arm around her and tilted his head back to look up at the stars. “You don’t get a view like this back east. Too many lights and too much pollution to see much of the sky.”

 

She looked up with him, not saying anything, and not needing to. A comfortable silence fell over them until she finally broke it with a long breath. “I’m glad we could do this. It’ll be nice, having you back in Inaba.”

 

“It’s good to be home,” he told her. “Good to see the others and Nanako and Dojima again. Good to get out of the city.” He tightened his arm around her, turning to see that she was already looking at him. “And I’m glad to be back here with you.”

 

There was another of those long moments, but instead of peaceful observance, it was charging the air between them. Tighter and tighter, like piano wire, a connection completely in tune with them. “What did you wish for?” Her voice came out low and richer than usual, exactly like it had in Kofu before they had to get to her train.

 

It had been a good idea in Kofu, so why not explore it again? “Let me show you,” he told her quietly, and pulled her close as her arms tightened on him.

 

It felt like cold lightning. Her lips were chilled from their walk to the shrine, but didn’t dissuade him from kissing her anyway. And there was that spark, that little shock that her touch sent through him. Hand, arm, face, it didn’t matter – it was his body’s hardwired response to her, and only her. And this time it jolted straight to his brain, heightening the crisp scent of frost and tree bark around them. Yet the kiss itself felt different now. It wasn’t calm like their first had been, and yet it lacked the overflowing passion that their time in Kofu had held. This was deeper, newer, and it sent shivers through his body as he broke only long enough to breathe before continuing their kiss. If Yukiko’s small sighs and pulling him tighter against her were any indication, she wasn’t in a hurry to change the status quo.

 

So absorbed was Souji in the feel of his girlfriend pressed against him that he didn’t register that her right hand, resting on his waist, was sliding slowly lower. He was unaware even as her fingers tagged on his belt. But he nearly jumped out of his skin when her hand, palm and fingers and all, rested on the left side of his rear and squeezed. Not tight enough to sting, but more than hard enough to feel.

 

“Y-Yukiko?!” he exclaimed, surprised that the next move between them was made by his staid and reserved girlfriend. But she giggled and tilted her head innocently, leaning in closer as her dark eyes danced with mischief. The same impish light that he’d seen when she suggested this trip to the shrine.

 

Not about to let her make all the moves, he pulled her flush against him, feeling the curves and contours of her body through the kimono, and lowered his face to the side of her neck. So close, he easily heard her breath hitch in anticipation, but she still hadn’t moved her right hand. Instead, she gave him another squeeze. “Yukiko,” he growled, dragging each syllable out in a mock warning. Her only response was another giggle, so two could play this game. He brought his left hand down her side, past her waist, and began exploring the same contours of her hip that he’d been eyeing earlier. Even through the fabric of her clothes, the toned muscle and soft flesh was easy enough to feel, particularly as he dragged his hand down the long length of toned thigh, then back up and around to the pert curve of her rear. Her breath caught as he matched her, and he chuckled as he kissed at her neck. She wasn’t objecting, and he wanted to pick up where they’d left off in Kofu.

 

It seemed she had the same idea, because her next kiss was open-mouthed, messier and more passionate. His next breath brought in some of her taste, like sharp cinnamon candies and fresh snow, and it mixed with her scent, filling his head with her. It was supposed to be the lady that swooned, but she was making his world spin while his knees shook. When his arm tightened around her, he felt her lips separate and the tip of her tongue meet his. He paused for a moment, surprised again that she’d make the first move, but refused to let the chance pass. If she wanted to change gears, he’d go as fast as she wanted. He raised the hand on her back to rest between her shoulders, angling her for a deeper kiss that returned the gesture. She pressed in closer, and he flexed his hand on her rear, delighting in the moan he pulled from her. Any further explorations were dampened by their need for air, however, and they reluctantly pulled apart, almost nose to nose.

 

“It’s not fair that you can kiss so well,” she told him between breaths.

 

“What ever happened to the girl who was afraid of talking to boys on her own?” he asked huskily, caught between the heady rush of his girlfriend and the sharp cold around him. The contrast only made the buzz more potent.

 

“She met a guy who made her feel alive. And she wanted to keep feeling that way every chance she got,” she replied, staring him in the eye without a hint of embarrassment or shame. “Are you complaining?”

 

“Not for a second.” It didn’t take him long to catch his breath, probably from years of basketball, so he decided to take advantage of her state and began kissing and nipping along her neck, letting her reactions guide him. A chuckle here, and small gasp there, she told him more than if she’d been using words, and he wanted more.

 

And he might have kept going if he hadn’t heard the approach of a vehicle. A jeep, to be precise, that squeaked rhythmically as it pulled to a stop. He pulled back from her neck to collect his thoughts, putting the pieces together when he wasn’t breathing in the warm scent of her skin. Dojima’s timing was impeccable. Instead of his choices involving which part of his girlfriend he partook in next, they were narrowed down to how much of their relationship he wanted to show the man closer to him than his own father.

 

He growled in frustration. A large part of him wanted to dismiss the choices altogether. He wanted to keep going and ignore the shrine and the cold, to pursue what he and Yukiko both wanted. But he couldn’t. His head was starting to clear, and he couldn’t shake the small voice in the back of his mind, asking if they were going too fast. And he couldn’t ignore it. Things were changing and he needed to consider them somewhere other than on the shrine steps. No matter how incredible she looked in that kimono, no matter how elegant her high ponytail made her, and no matter how much the constant restraint was wearing on his nerves. He wanted more, but wasn’t sure he knew what ‘more’ meant at this point. Or how far she was ready to go.

 

And with Dojima approaching, they were simply out of time.

 

It was hard. Her scent, her taste, and the feel of her curves against him made pulling back a monumental challenge, like he was struggling against the waves. But pull back he did, slowly, retracting his hand from her ass and met her eyes when he could, so close that their noses brushed against each other. A cloud of white rose between them when he gave a heavy sigh. “Looks like our chaperone’s arrived.”

 

“Hmm?” Her eyes were half-lidded and almost black in the dim light. Between them and her kiss-bruised lips, he forced himself to hold back again. Even when her hand raised and rested on his waist, tugging him closer.

 

“I mean Dojima’s on the street,” he clarified, and she blinked, sober reality settling in on her fine-boned features. “Probably here to pick us up. And if I had to guess, your parents are wondering where you are by now. Better if you get home before you need help rearranging your kimono.”

 

“Would that be so bad?”

 

At least she didn’t need convincing. Giving her a smirk, he pulled her close for one last long, deep kiss, feeling her breath hitch. Breaking off before she could pull him closer, he rested his forehead against hers, making her the only thing he saw. “No, but when we do this, I want to do it right. Not on the shrine steps, and not in the dead middle of winter.”

 

His words took a few moments to sink in past her post-kiss haze, but she gave him a small smile filled with anticipation that he would have expected to see on Rise and replied “I’m going to hold you to that.”

 

She really had changed. But as much as that might have seemed like an invitation any other day, now it just felt like an affirmation. There would be another time, another place, and they’d go from there. Still, knowing how much she wanted to take that next step, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the interruption.

 

While he was stewing in irritation, she was so content that she leaned against him, letting him support her weight. Setting his left hand on her back and his right arm around her front and side, he steadied her against him. His cheeks were starting to sting through the numbness from the cold, but from how he had her against him, he ended up with his nose in her hair. The smell, coupled with the sharp scent of the night air and ice, bled the tension from him, second by second. Even without addressing the matter, she could put him at ease. And he didn’t need to see her to know that she was smiling.

 

“Right… there.” _Click_. They both looked over in time to see his uncle holding his cell phone out, just so, before slipping it into his coat pocket. “You know the shrine could have waited until tomorrow morning,” Dojima told them with a smirk as he approached. “And if nothing else, you could have let her parents know where you were going.”

 

“We had the time, so it made sense to make the visit now,” Souji replied, letting the cold air cool him off despite having Yukiko leaning against him. “Besides, you’d never get a view like this in the daytime.”

 

“And this way, we won’t have to take any time out of our schedules tomorrow,” Yukiko added, still a little flushed from their earlier activities and subsequent laughter. “And it’s quieter this time of night. I hope this wasn’t an inconvenience for you.”

 

“Tonight’s been interesting so far,” Dojima replied dryly to Yukiko, “so it’s not like picking you two up was completely unexpected. But your parents were wondering where you’d gone, and it is freezing out.” He glanced over at his nephew. “You weren’t planning on walking back to the Inn, were you?”

 

“Not if you’re offering us a ride,” was Souji’s reply. The cold was starting to sink in, even more so without Yukiko’s kisses to keep him warm.

 

Dojima chuckled and shook his head, saying _crazy kids_ without speaking a word. “Come on. The jeep’s nice and warm.” They both nodded and followed the detective briskly to try and beat the cold. Much as Souji wanted to get to a the still-running vehicle, however, he was still simmering from their shared affections. His lips tingled, and he could still feel Yukiko’s hand on his ass. He glanced to the side, noting how sharp she looked in profile, and leaned a bit closer, making sure only she could hear him.

 

“We’ll have to continue our discussion later.” He tried to sound calm and light, but couldn’t keep the low growl out of his voice. “When we have more time, and when there won’t be any interruptions.”

 

The old her would have tripped up or stuttered a reply, but the new her didn’t. Instead he got a deep sidelong glance, edged in promises and unspoken feelings. “I’m looking forward to it,” she replied, voice rich and smoky and sending him into shivers. Damn. She still got the last word in.

 

She had changed. He hadn’t noticed it in Kofu or heard it in her voice during their conversations, but she wasn’t the same girl he’d met in the rain by the river all those months ago, or the young woman who’d fought next to him in the TV. Even his capable girlfriend who’d seen him off in April was missing. What stood in their place was a woman who was all those things and more, who’d grown in his absence in ways he was only noticing now. He cursed himself for his assumptions – of course she’d have changed. She certainly wouldn’t have remained in a stasis while he was away.

 

But his self-scolding died off easily enough. Yes, he had been blind to her before, but now they had time and opportunity to change that. And he was looking forward to learning the different ways she’d changed. Each and every one of them.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 

Shirogane Naoto was credited for having sharp instincts and exceptional insight. Her friends on the Inaba Investigation Team needed no convincing of this, not anymore, and those she worked with in the police department had either accepted her input, or were humbled by it. A prodigy, they called her; eyes like a falcon with a telescope and intuition that was a small step short of mind reading. She was always considering the variables of each situation, thinking of alternatives and leaving no stone unturned. And now all that insight, experience, and problem-solving talent was telling her one thing, louder than a fog horn: that there was no helping it. She’d been delaying it and trying to work around it long enough, and it wasn’t something she could ignore anymore. Her shirts were getting tighter across the shoulders, and she couldn’t slip into her coats and slacks like she had for the past few years. It was getting harder to breathe even before she put her shirts on, too. And that was with the largest clothes she owned.

 

It was official – Shirogane Naoto was growing again. Faster and in more ways than her current wardrobe could accommodate.

 

Normally she wouldn’t be caught dead procrastinating on an issue as fundamental as what she wore, but it had been quite a while since it had been a concern. She’d accepted her height and dimensions when she came to Inaba, and didn’t begrudge that she might not grow much more from that point on. There was nothing wrong with how she looked or dressed, and those who professed otherwise didn’t have opinions she valued. Or views she couldn’t just work around. After all, neither of her parents had been especially tall people, so her size only made sense.

 

But now, after not changing for so long, she was being reminded of how it felt to have to update her attire. And that meant going through her wardrobe to decide not just on what she wanted adjusted, but what she wanted to be wearing for the next few years. She’d never thought of herself as fashionable, at least not in the sense that Rise-san was, but she knew that some of her favourite articles of clothing would have to be tailored or sent away for. There wasn’t much hope of Junes carrying them, and she wasn’t about to let something as trivial as size force her to discard them.

 

When she mentioned it to her Grandpa, he’d actually laughed at the situation. Not at her, he’d been sure to tell her, but that she was growing again after so long. He’d promised to make the arrangements, and had given her an address with an appointment time the next day. She considered the matter settled then, with further thought or concern unwarranted – she needed proper-sized clothes, and the monetary expense wasn’t an issue. That was all there was to it.

 

What was a concern, she realized as she looked at the name on the piece of paper in her hands, was that the tailor she’d been scheduled with had a last name she knew quite well.

 

_Tatsumi Textiles_ stared at her innocently from the plain off-white sheet, hovering above an address she had memorized from when she’d been investigating the murders, written in the fine, cursive script she’d always associated with her Grandpa.

 

It shouldn’t have surprised her. She knew Tatsumi Kanji worked with embroidery and crafts. His family’s reputation in Inaba was second to none, and her Grandpa had said he’d find the best tailor for her. But she hadn’t seen anything Kanji-kun had done on a larger scale before – the most she’d seen of his talents consisted of the dolls and cell phone straps that the children were so enthusiastic about. Would he be making the clothes for her? How much experience did he have? How would he react? He did have a habit of responding strongly when she was around, though she wasn’t always certain as to why.

 

She shook her head. No, it wouldn’t do to make hasty conclusions. There were still variables about the situation she didn’t know about, and making hurried assumptions wouldn’t do. So she adjusted her officer’s cap, perhaps the one article of clothing she owned that still fit her, and brushed the snow off her shoulders before opening the door and  knocking politely on the frame. “Good morning!” she called, carefully wiping her shoes on the mat. The first thing she noticed was that the storefront was as clean and organized as it was the first time she’d come here. The second was an unfamiliar smell that reminded her of vanilla flavouring and spicy perfume, sharp enough to be noticed but not enough to be overpowering or make her eyes water. Incense. Evidently a new addition to the store since it hadn’t been present last time she visited. She liked it though – if felt like it was warming her up from the inside with each breath, and set her at ease in a moment.

 

“Come in,” replied a familiar female voice, and Naoto saw Kanji-kun’s mother arranging products on the various shelves of the storefront. “Ah, Shirogane-san. It’s wonderful to see you again,” the woman told her as she entered, dressed in a grey kimono that looked both sensible and practical.

 

Naoto bowed in response. “You as well, Tatsumi-san. Thank you for taking my appointment on such short notice.”

 

“Oh it was nothing. Kanji’s been looking for a different project after all the Christmas and New Year’s orders, so your request came at just the right time.” Tatsumi-san brought out a ledger and pen, looking at the younger woman inquisitively. “I don’t mean to be rude, but just so we’re clear on the expectations and the costs…”

 

“I don’t mind,” Naoto assured her calmly. She’d grown closer to the woman since Rise-san had let it slip that Shirogane Naoto was a girl rather than the polite boy Tatsumi-san originally believed her to be. From what the sleuth had heard from Yosuke-senpai, Kanji-kun and Souji-senpai had spent the better part of an afternoon explaining the facts to the Tatsumi matriarch. Naoto wasn’t privy to the details of that discussion, but she did know that the next time she saw the woman, in the downtown shopping centre’s book store, she’d been as polite as she’d ever been. Perhaps Senpai was a better negotiator than they knew. Or maybe Tatsumi-san had a feeling about her, and hearing the truth was just confirming a suspicion. Either way, the awkwardness that could have existed between them was now nowhere to be found. “It makes sense to keep such things current, after all.”

 

“I appreciate your understanding. So, you’ve come in for a complete resizing?”

 

“That’s correct. For casual and semi-formal wear for now. Perhaps something more as the situations arise.”

 

“Of course.” Tatsumi-san gave her a closer, more meaningful look. “Will you require any… more feminine items at this time?”

 

Naoto blushed. She had expected the question, especially since she did need those particular items, and she appreciated the woman’s discretion, but hearing it in person was different from thinking about it. “I… that depends.”

 

“Kanji would be handling the main items of the order,” Tatsumi-san continued. “If you placed that particular request, I would see to them myself. He’s not quite ready for that yet, if you take my meaning.”

 

Naoto smiled, letting the tension drop from her shoulders, her too-tight clothes pinching her as she did. “I’d appreciate that. Then yes, that would be most expedient. May I discuss the details of those items with you at a later time?”

 

“Of course, dear. Whenever you’re ready. Kanji should be ready by now. Second door on the left – it’s hard to miss.”

 

Naoto bowed and removed her shoes, putting on a pair of available slippers and padding to the back of the shop. It wasn’t hard to deduce which door Tatsumi-san had referred to – it was the only one bearing careful drawings of real-as-life lightning bolts and spiralling hawks in flight. Not on a sign hung on a peg, but delicately and exquisitely crafted into the surface of the door itself. She took a moment to admire the detail, knowing which Tatsumi had crafted it. It was a paradox sometimes. She never placed much importance on appearances, knowing in too many ways how unreliable they were. But it was always so easy to focus on Kanji-kun’s external traits, his imposing size and direct voice and speech patterns, and ignore that he could create items or scenes of such beauty with even commonplace items.

 

She cleared her throat and called through the door, “Excuse me.”

 

“Yeah, c’mon in,” a familiar voice told her.

 

She slid the door open and saw Tatsumi Kanji’s workspace for the first time. And for the second time that morning, she had to give herself time to take everything in. There were rolls of fabric and spools of thread taking up an entire side of the room, with a large desk covered in papers and measuring tapes set against the far wall. Several books and magazines held down those papers, home to a variety of coloured tabs for marking pages. Near the desk was a large window, filling the room with natural light and holding the cold at bay.

 

It was more a workshop than a room, and it reminded her of her own desk at home with her various projects and schematics. And yet it was, just like the design on the door, a contrast with what she expected of Tatsumi Kanji. The rolls of fabric were set against each other, some looking so precarious that the daintiest of sneezes would have toppled them, but they were sorted by colour and shade from right to left, and looked like they were set in that order deliberately. Atop several of the rolls were some well-used pincushions filled with needles, but in the shapes of hedgehogs and porcupines, right down to the polished button eyes and detailed face and tail and even whiskers. She might have expected Kanji to be careless with cleanliness and his surroundings, but the floor and walls were clean and mostly bare.

 

The inhabitant of the room was scribbling furiously on a paper pad, hunched over his desk, and when he turned to greet her, he stopped in place, eyes widening in clear surprise.

 

She blinked thoughtfully. Didn’t he know she was coming? She had an appointment, after all, but was it too soon for him? Had he been so immersed in his work that he’d forgotten? Or was he just that easily startled?

 

“Uh, hey,” he told her finally, looking away for a moment and scratching the back of his head before rising to his feet. He was wearing a black t-shirt, complete with his trademark flaming skull, and dark pants, and seemed to fill the room as he moved.

 

She inclined her head politely, gesturing to him as she walked to the middle of the room. “Good morning. Did I surprise you?”

 

“Nah. I mean, kinda, yeah. Wasn’t expecting you to call, y’know? Thought you had your own tailor or… I dunno, just surprised me when you called, that’s all. But it’s not a problem or anything.”

 

“I see. That’s good.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

His eyes rose to hers again, and the room went quiet. He seemed to be waiting for something. Perhaps for her? That was logical – her participation would be needed for the measurements, however marginally. “I suppose we should begin,” she told him finally.

 

He cleared his throat and looked down at his work table. “Y-yeah. So, you ever done this before?”

 

“Not recently, but I’m familiar with the procedures involved in size measurements.”

 

“’kay, then this’ll be easier. Just hold still when I say to, and… well, you know.”

 

“I will.”

 

Without a further word, she held her left arm out to the side, focusing on the far wall of the room as he approached with a notepad and a measuring tape.

 

The technical process of the measurements was simple and remarkably smooth. He told her how to move and where to hold her arms or legs, and she did so without a second thought. It was distracting, however, when she felt the backs of his fingers against her sides or arms, carefully holding the tape. She wasn’t used to personal physical contact, and he was remarkably gentle when he moved, like he was afraid he’d hurt her if he pushed too hard. She also had to keep from moving when he brushed along her back – she was ticklish between her shoulder blades.

 

She needed something to takes her mind off his presence next to her. It was like his mass was bending the space around him, solid enough to sweep over her like a shadow on a summer day. Not discomforting or oppressive, but impossible to ignore. She had to stand in one place, however, so the only activity that made sense was conversation. And it made sense to talk while he worked, she decided. They were friends and comrades, and the time might go by faster if they chatted. Besides, small talk wasn’t her forte, so this would be good practice for her. “I’m curious,” she began quietly, “if you know of any skilled barbers in this part of town.”

 

Kanji looked surprised by her words, evidently expecting her to be as quiet as she always was. “I know a few,” he replied as he measured and recorded. “There’s one that Ma uses all the time, if you want a recommendation. Why? Looking to get a trim?”

 

“Something more than a trim, I think. My hair’s grown too long, and the shorter I have it cut, the more time there will be until I need to make another such appointment.”

 

That stopped him in mid-stroke, bringing his attention up from his paper and pen. “You’d really cut it that short?”

 

“Not so close that it would look unusual,” she clarified. “But having it this long is an inconvenience, and I doubt anyone thinks I would look appropriate with long hair.”

 

“It… I don’t think it’s a problem at all. You’d look good that way.”

 

She pulled out of her focus on the wall and turned to him, disbelief on her face. “You think so? Why?”

 

“Well, it’s not like you’d be less of a detective with long hair, right? And it’d be something different from how you normally wear it. I dunno. I just think you’d look good with long hair.”

 

“Perhaps so, but I’m not Rise-san or Yukiko-senpai. They might make their hair work for them, but I wouldn’t know where to start with mine.”

 

“Yukiko-senpai’s hair wasn’t always that long, y’know. She had it pretty short in middle school before she settled on how it looks now.”

 

“But she became accustomed to it being long in the first place. I lack such experience,” she replied as he measured across her shoulders.

 

“No reason not to try something different, right? Wouldn’t get anywhere if we did the same thing all the time.”

 

She didn’t know why her eyes narrowed at his persistence, but they did. He hadn’t made this much of an effort to talk to her in… she couldn’t remember when he ever had. But it was unusual, and it was throwing her off centre, especially since his arguments were logical and followed her own logic perfectly, something she hadn’t expected from the excitable teen. “It’s not that simple,” she told him quietly with a note of finality.

 

“Hmph. If you say so,” was his reply, and she didn’t bother to respond. “That’ll do it for now,” he told her a moment later, stepping away from her and scribbling on his notepad. “Should be enough to get you some shirts. Got a design and colour in mind?”

 

Her mood leveled off when the topic changed. She felt he might have an accurate idea of what her preferences would be, but she told him anyway. “Buttoned in the front, and a shade of blue if it’s available. I trust your judgement on what shades those are.”

 

“Yeah, it’s not hard to guess,” he told her. “Same as what you have now?”

 

“That would be preferable.”

 

“Gotcha. Shouldn’t be too hard. You’ll need to come in again if you want a jacket or something else sized though.”

 

“Not that I object, but couldn’t you use the measurements you have now for those?”

 

“Probably, but then I’d be guessing. Different clothes need different numbers, so it’s better to get it right the first time, y’know? And I’ll need your leg measurements too.”

 

“Then I will defer to your experience on the matter. How long will it be until this order is done?”

 

“If I get started soon, about three or four days.”

 

“Then I’ll leave you to your work.” She nodded politely and turned toward the door. It occurred to her that this was perhaps the most articulate Kanji-kun had ever been around her. But that made sense, she thought a moment later. He was in his element here, doing what came more naturally to him than breathing. And it made sense that he could talk in this room – it was very calming, especially with traces of the incense from the front room lingering in the air.

 

“Hey,” he called after her. She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. He was looking at her, though seemed uncomfortable doing so. “Thanks. For, y’know, choosing us, and coming here.”

 

She blinked, then gave him a small smile. Despite the awkward delivery, he sounded quite sincere. “Of course. It’s only logical to patronize the business of a friend, after all.”

 

“Right. Right. Well, thanks again.”

 

Naoto inclined her head, then made her way out of his workspace. She considered talking to Tatsumi-san on the way out, but she was already busy with another client. Naoto slipped back into her shoes and made her way out into the cold winter air. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, not difficult considering that it, too, needed to be resized, and started walking toward the heart of the business district. After all, getting her clothes sized wasn’t the only reason she was here.

 

Before she made it to Daidara Metalworks, however, she saw another old comrade walking toward her, from the bookstore. A familiar figure she’d conversed with the day Senpai had returned from Kofu. A friend who looked up and recognized her, and was walking over with his trademark smile and new headphones in place and a bundle of magazines and CDs under an arm.

 

“Hey Naoto. How’s it going?” he asked, forgoing the bow like usual and giving her a two-finger salute with his free hand

 

“Hello Yosuke-senpai. I’m well. What brings you to the shopping district? I thought you might be working today.”

 

“It’s my day off, and I left my phone at home. Just came to get the mail, and blow my paycheque.” He gave a disgusted sigh and shook his head. “For how much postage costs out here, Tower Music could’ve financed their own building in Okina City by now. Anyway, what about you?”

 

She knew how observant Yosuke-senpai was, and while she felt no hesitance or shame for having Kanji-kun take her measurements for her clothes, she knew her friend would immediately make the wrong assumptions, deliberately or not, about the situation. So she told him instead “I’m here to see Daidara-san. He is in possession of an item that he feels I might be interested in, and requested that I consider it in person.”

 

“Ahhh, I see. What sort of item? Expanding your gun collection?”

 

She shook her head and gestured toward the shop in question. “I’ll show you if you are interested.”

 

Evidently he was, since he followed her into the shop. What Daidara-san had waiting for her wasn’t a gun, like Yosuke-senpai assumed. Nor was it a sword or a set of knives – she’d leave those to her senpai.

 

No, what was presented to her, and what she nodded in approval at, was an old reel film projector. 8mm, to be precise. And its condition was less than serviceable – the photo assembly alone was in seventeen distinct pieces.

 

“This?” Yosuke-senpai asked her, looking at the pile of parts dubiously.

 

“It’s a pet project of mine,” she replied, looking over the film canisters and the blank reels Daidara-san was willing add to the pile for a nominal fee. “I already have a camera at home. And I feel that there are certain events that should be recorded for posterity. Reflected on at times. Rise-san is very much in support of the idea.”

 

“She’d probably take pictures of everything she can,” Yosuke replied dryly with a smirk. “But that does sound like her, especially with how much she travels. And if you’re that into it, I spose I can donate a few of my own.”

 

That caught her attention, and she looked at him with a trace of surprise in her eyes. “You’re an avid photographer as well, Yosuke-senpai?”

 

“Wouldn’t go that far, but I know how to use a camera. And who knows where I’ll end up? Might end up in the middle of something too crazy to just talk about, and I’d need the evidence to prove it. Anyway, you need a hand with that?” He gestured toward the heap of components she’d come for.

 

“Thank you for the offer, but I have already contacted Yakushiji on the matter. He’ll make the arrangements.”

 

“Ahh, gotcha. Well, I should be heading back. I’ll keep your project in mind next time I head out of town. Something might catch my eye, you know?”

 

“Thank you, and it was nice seeing you again.” Then something came to mind, something Kanji-kun had told her. “Yosuke-senpai, wait a moment. Could I ask you something?”

 

“Hm? Sure, what’s up?”

 

“I… I’ve been thinking of cutting my hair, shorter than usual. And it’s come to my attention that I might look passably well with longer hair, so I should refrain from doing so. What do you think?”

 

He looked at her, apparently intrigued by the question, then his eyes grew speculative. “Longer or shorter hair, eh? I think you could pull off longer hair pretty good, unless you’ve got a reason for wanting to keep it short. I know women in the police have to cut it short or tie it up, but you’re not a beat cop, so that wouldn’t be an issue.”

 

Two people telling her long hair wasn’t a problem. Curious. “It never came up before. I’ve always had it this length, so I hadn’t given it any thought. Why do you have that opinion?”

 

He shrugged, keeping his literature close under his arm. “I’m not sure. I just think is suits you. I mean, it’s not like I would take you less seriously if you had longer hair than you do now. But I just can’t imagine you keeping it that short a few years from now, you know? Same as I can’t imagine Rise going for a bowl cut or something.”

 

“Rise-san has an image to maintain, so of course she wouldn’t go to those lengths without considering the ramifications,” she pointed out. “But thank you for your candor.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

Intriguing. Kanji-kun felt she wouldn’t be any different for having longer hair, and Yosuke-senpai, as she expected, went with his gut feeling and gave her a similar opinion. And their arguments, while not entirely convincing, were valid. So she held off on scheduling a trip to the hair stylist, and made her way home pondering the other things that were regularly on her mind. And every now and again, she’d brush her bangs away from her face, or blow a breath of white-cold air out to keep her hair from her eyes.

 

\---

 

The shirts arrived as he told her they would, and a few days later Naoto was able to breathe and move around her home without worrying for snapping buttons or tearing at the seams from a too-fast turn. She stood in front of her mirror, twisting and turning, to see the cut and shape. And while she didn’t consider herself a vain person, she thoroughly admired Kanji-kun’s skill and choice in colour. Perhaps it was deliberate, but the shirts brought out her skin tone and hair colour. Hair that remained uncut on account of her still pondering the opinions of her two comrades.

 

As pleased as she was with Kanji-kun’s work, however, there was more to her wardrobe that needed resizing than shirts, which was why she was back where she’d been several days before, able to turn and lift her arms comfortably, but incredibly aware of the trim fit of her slacks. They weren’t tight in the sense that her shirts had been tight, but she was becoming more and more aware of Kanji-kun’s proximity as he worked. The way the morning light softened the hard lines of his jaw and cheeks, and the smell of his body wash, a clean scent that filled her head and reminded her of the ocean and sun-warmed sand every time she breathed it in. How he moved around the room, his workshop, more smoothly than she’d ever seen him before. The contrast between the Kanji-kun she knew outside of Tatsumi Textiles and the sure, confident young man before her was breaking down what she thought she knew about him, so much so that her mental energies were devoted more to figuring him out than wondering how he thought she looked in tight pants.

 

“You haven’t cut your hair,” he commented as he measured her around the waist, meeting her pensive gaze with his focused one. “It looks good.”

 

She regarded him curiously, not letting the feeling of his hands on her waist distract her from her thoughts. “I haven’t yet. I’m still considering the possibility.”

 

“Huh. Got a reason for keeping it short? Not trying to talk you out of it, but, y’know, just curious.”

 

“Having long hair is impractical for a detective,” she told him simply, still turning over this new metaphorical Rubik’s Cube in her hands. “Keeping it short means I will spend less time caring for it, and fewer things can go wrong. It would just get in the way while I’m working.”

 

“Could always tie it up,” he suggested. “That’d be a different look for you too.”

 

“Yosuke-senpai said something similar to that several days ago. I’m not certain as to whether it would suit me or not, however.”

 

He stopped and turned to look at her, so close they were almost nose to nose. She thought to back away, but before she could she caught his gaze, and stopped in place. How… odd. She’d never noticed how dark his eyes were, or that he had long eyelashes. And neither trait was detracting. Quite… the opposite, in fact… He stared at her, wordlessly, for a long moment, then seemed to remember where he was and pulled back, looking away. Naoto also looked away, feeling oddly warm at how close he’d been.

 

No… No, that had to be the sunlight, because they were standing near the window. Of course.

 

“Never know until you try,” he told her finally. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

 

“It’s not that simple. People have an image that they associate a detective with, same as a tailor or an inn keeper, and it makes business easier if those people look the part.” But even as she said it, she knew her logic was flawed: only Yukiko-senpai fit the part of an inn keeper the way she was describing, and even that was a flawed argument on account of the young woman’s curious sense of humour and there being far, far more to her than met the eye.

 

“There’s more to people than what they look like. Hard not to think like that now, especially after all the shit we went through before, right?”

 

“Not everyone thinks that way.”

 

“Then to hell with them. I mean, c’mon, you know that ain’t important. It’s not about looking like a girl or a guy – you’re you, an’ that’s all there is to it.”

 

She chuckled. His directness was refreshing, but he did have a tendency to speak before thinking. “Where does this preoccupation stem from, by the way? It contradicts your fascination with my hair, you know – if people are who they are, then their appearance shouldn’t matter.”

 

“Some looks suit people better,” he argued, his features animated as he got into their discussion. “Make em look more mature, grown up, makes em stand out and look how they should. Still them, but the look brings it out more. And gets past that part you were talking about, people accepting you based on looks.”

 

“And you think I’d look more suitable with long hair because it’s appropriate?” she inquired, putting the pieces together. Then she let her train of thought continue unheeded. “Is that what you find appealing or attractive? Someone fitting their proper image and living true to themselves?”

 

“That’s right,” he told her directly, staring her in the eye. “And it’s the same with you. That ain’t a problem. Not with me.”

 

She froze, and realized without growing horror what he was saying. “Kanji-kun, don’t say things rashly. You’ll only create confusion in the situation.” She tried for a calming, explanatory tone, but, to her shame, she sounded breathless, and her voice slipped into a higher pitch than she normally used.

 

“Ain’t no confusion or a misunderstanding,” he replied immediately. “If you think I’m into you, then that’s what I’m saying.” Naoto had no words to reply with. There _were_ no words. She stared at him, standing in place and trying to comprehend what was happening. He continued speaking, not loud or agitated, but with a sincerity she couldn’t ignore. “You’re smart and brave, yeah, but there’s more to you than that. I mean, that’s plenty on its own, but it’s more than that with you. It’s like at school. You mighta thought you were part of the wallpaper, but you’ve always shined and stood out. For bein’ smart or different. Couldn’ta won that beauty contest if you didn’t right? Point being, there’s more to you than you think, and it ain’t got to do with looking like a guy or a girl. And I think...” It was then that he lost some of his steam. “I dunno. I can help you. I want to help you. See where you go with it.”

 

Stunned. Flabbergasted. There were other words, but those summed up her feelings well enough. She worked her jaw several times and finally found her voice. “I’m… not sure I catch your meaning.”

 

He let out a long breath, and his shoulders sunk on the exhale. He seemed smaller now. Younger. And it occurred to her that, despite his size, he was the youngest member of their team. And right now he looked it. Young and a little lost. “Let’s just finish this. Shouldn’t take too long,” he told her, his voice tense. She didn’t remember if she answered him, but nodded anyway.

 

The sizing continued in a strained silence, like it was riding on a steel cable about to snap. Kanji measured, but swore under his breath more than once for doing so inaccurately or not taking the measurements down. And she found herself twitching at the feel of his hands, or edging away from him when the tightness of her slacks became apparent. They didn’t say anything when the session ended. She edged away and he kept his eyes on his notepad, broad shoulders and back to her, imposing as a wall and lacking that uncertainty from before. She said some form of farewell, and left before waiting for an answer. She spoke to Tatsumi-san on the way out, discussed the final price and those ‘other items’, and left in a daze.

 

Home. Work. Cases. Yes, she could focus on those and get Kanji-kun’s words out of her head. Get some control over the situation again, and try to narrow her focus. It had worked before, it would work now.

 

But peace of mind was not to be had that night. She’d had dinner with her Grandpa and Yakushiji, but couldn’t remember the topic of discussion. She found herself in her room, dressed in her pajamas, but couldn’t recall how she got there or when. And throughout it all, she kept hearing _his_ voice over and over. She tried pacing and thinking of police cases, but that only made her hot. She sat down at her work table and tried tinkering with the film projector’s reel mechanism, but kept spacing out and finding her screwdrivers and wrenches where they would do her no good. Giving up, she put her tools away and slipped under her covers, shutting off the lights and trying to calm her mind enough to sleep. Rest would help her sort the events of the day out.

 

Only sleep didn’t come. She stared at the far wall, focusing so hard on tiring out that she sparked her second wind. Then she rolled over and tried staring at the ceiling, only to compare the pattern to that of the wall in Kanji-kun’s work room. She rolled over again, letting out a small, uncharacteristic growl when her too-long hair followed and flopped against her face, giving up on the matter entirely. It felt like running smacking into a wall right in front of her. She’d felt this often enough in the past, and knew when she’d run out of ideas. She needed a new perspective, someone to show her where she was making mistakes in her reasoning. And she had to be, because mysteries didn’t keep her up at night, so why should Kanji-kun?

 

Even thinking of his name made her turn over again, and stop halfway when she realized she was doing it. She sighed, and recited the Dojima family’s phone number in her mind. It was far too late, or technically early, to call him now, so she’d do it in the morning. She needed Senpai’s insight on this matter. He’d understand. No, she realized with a growing lucidity that made her bury her face in her pillow with a groan, he’d do more than understand – he’d probably known the entire time. He was observant and in tune with all of them, so she knew he’d have something to say on this topic. And Kanji-kun looked up to him, so it only made sense that he’d talk to his senpai, ask him for advice. How much did he know? How much had he inferred since they’d all met outside Tatsumi Textiles nearly two years ago?

 

The detective in her knew that would be an asset, that he’d be able to make a more informed decision, knowing more about the situation. He knew them both, after all, and their personalities, so he’d be able to find the most expedient solution. The young woman in her, however, was oddly mortified that she’d been as blind to the people around her as she had been, that the others saw through her and Kanji so easily. Had she just not wanted to see it? Or was this a result of her recent growth? Who would she turn to if Souji-senpai didn’t have the answers? No, she knew that wasn’t the case. It was Souji-senpai, after all.  He would know what to do, or at least help her think of something herself.

 

That thought was the last one she had before her mind finally calmed enough to let her sleep. Even then, she didn’t sleep peacefully, scattered dreams of bright sunlight and the scent of the ocean filling her mind.

 

\---

 

Souji must have known something was up, because he’d invited her over for breakfast when she called him at the crack of dawn the next morning. He hadn’t even asked what she needed his time for – he’d just told her when to arrive. So when she knocked on the door and was greeted by a freshly-washed Souji-senpai, complete with his usual dark slacks and a grey long-sleeved shirt (it was January, after all), she had to step back. He’d leaned down and looked at her closely, giving a small smile as though he’d found something he was looking for. “Thought so,” he murmured before standing aside and letting her in.

 

“Were you wondering about something?” she inquired, unbuttoning her coat and taking her shoes off. She did so slowly, not just because she was still sandy-eyed and bone-tired from a bad night’s sleep, but also because the scent of sliced oranges, cooking eggs and toast, and freshly-ground coffee beans wafted around her the moment she took a breath. She’d skipped breakfast on account of her exhaustion, so when he pointed her toward the table, she didn’t hesitate to take him up on the offer.

 

“You sounded a little rough on the phone,” he explained as he poured her a cup of coffee and placed the cream and sugar on the table, still working over the stove and counter. “We’ll make extra, so have as much as you like.”

 

“I couldn’t impose,” she replied automatically despite having her coffee cup set under her nose and inhaling deeply, the rich scent easing her exhaustion-induced headache and bringing an energy to her limbs that she’d lacked a moment before. It wasn’t bagged coffee, either – he was spoiling her with something expensive and freshly ground. Or perhaps they had this regularly? Either way, it was a luxury that would be rude to decline.

 

“It’s no imposition,” he replied, glancing at her while working on the eggs. “I’ll make you work for it, so it’s only fair. Same with breakfast. Right Nanako?”

 

Nanako? Naoto had just finished adding her cream and sugar, saw where Souji was looking, then turned to the side to see his cousin standing in the doorway to the living room, her hair down while she blearily rubbed her eyes.

 

“Good morning Naoto-san,” she told the detective through a yawn as she pulled out a chair at the table. Souji poured her a cup of coffee, the mug bearing the imprint of a platypus on the side, and the girl gave a sleepy smile to him in return. Naoto couldn’t help but notice the pajamas the girl wore. The shirt and pants had white lace along the cuffs and edges, and the entire affair was a distinct and tasteful shade of pink she’d grown to associate with the girl. And most distinguishing of all were the pictures of Risette herself scattered across the front, back and sides. Profile shots, posing for the camera, even pictures that looked like they’d been taken live, all cropped and scattered across the fabric surface. Even the buttons, Naoto noted, were in the shapes of microphones and music notes. The ensemble looked quite well made, and probably cost more than anything Junes had on their racks. It was also too large for her, with the legs and sleeves folded back and pinned in place so she wouldn’t trip. Someone had purchased the set with Nanako-chan’s growth in mind, and knew how much the girl idolized Risette. And the number of people on that list was particularly small.

 

“Good morning, Nanako-chan,” she replied with a smile she couldn’t suppress. “I haven’t seen you wear those pajamas before. They’re very pretty. Are they new?”

 

The girl immediately perked up to the background tune of Souji’s chuckle, eyes wide and face split by a smile when she leaned forward against the table. “Yep! Rise-san sent them to me for Christmas! She sent me her new CD and some autographed pictures of places she’d been before too. She even sent a letter saying what she was doing in Kofu and in Tokyo.”

 

From dragging her feet to trembling with energy. Naoto shook her head, enjoying every word the girl said and letting her enthusiasm seep in from across the table. It was calming, a pleasant centre to her morning, and engrossed her to the point that she hadn’t even noticed that her hair brushed her cheeks when she smiled. She listened as the girl described what she’d been doing since they’d met for dinner after Christmas, feeling her fatigue fade away. For this little while, she didn’t have to think of the reasons why she came over in the first place. She’d lost track of time while she talked with the girl, so much so that she was startled when Souji slid a plate of food in front of her. He did the same for Nanako and occupied the remaining chair and told them “Sorry it took so long. Dig in.”

 

Naoto looked at just how much food he’d given her, surprised by what she saw on her plate. “This is too much for me, Senpai.”

 

He shrugged, not taking the plate back. “It’s not a problem. Just eat what you can. We’ll talk later.” And so she was treated to a Dojima family breakfast. Nanako chatted happily with Souji when she wasn’t eating, and even though Naoto busied herself with her breakfast, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. It was a welcome relief to see Nanako so energetic, so lively, so clearly enjoying her time with Souji-senpai. The girl’s strength and vivacity was an example for the entire team to follow, herself included.

 

Breakfast, as she’d grown to expect from Souji-senpai, was delicious, and she was so busy talking to Nanako and engaging in Senpai’s stories of Rise and Kofu that she blinked owlishly at her plate when her fork hit ceramic instead of food – she’d eaten everything on her plate. And there had been quite a bit of it.

 

“You must have been hungry,” Souji noted when he saw her expression.

 

“I’m… I didn’t expect to…”

 

“It’s no problem,” he told her, brushing off her concerns. “I made the food to be eaten, after all.”

 

She sat and mulled it over, unsure what devouring an entire plate of food when a year ago she might have eaten barely half of it said about her while Souji and Nanako took the dishes to the sink and cleaned them, discussing what they’d be having for dinner. Perhaps it was another symptom of growing again. No, not just perhaps – she knew that it was. But the changes were hard to get used to, and it just reminded her of why she was here in the first place.

 

Nanako finished helping Souji clean the dishes before heading to her room to change. She was visiting friends, he explained, so they’d have some privacy for whatever she wanted to discuss. Sure enough, within twenty minutes they were sitting across the living room table from each other, a cup of green tea in front of each. Souji-senpai’s postures was relaxed, but Naoto found it hard to think when he was looking at her. She kept her eyes on the corner of the table and her fingers were tense and tight on her cup until she forcibly loosened them.

 

“What’s up?” he asked, face calm and focused on her. He was courteous enough to not mention her nerves, and that gave her a measure of stability.

 

She took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to be a coward or run away from the reason she’d called so early in the morning. Senpai would have let her, certainly, but she hated wasting opportunities. “It’s about Kanji-kun,” she blurted out, then winced. Blunt and inelegant. She was going to work into the topic, not tell him right away.

 

He cocked his head to the side, otherwise unresponsive. “What about him? Is there a problem?”

 

“He’s begun to exhibit a… strong interest in me.” There. More in control. Much better.

 

She got a series of blinks before his lips twitched up. Not enough to say that he was smiling, but he was clearly amused. “I’m sure you know this, Naoto, but he’s been doing that for quite a while. He hasn’t always been clear on the point, but this isn’t a new development.”

 

“And that’s readily apparent, when I look at the evidence in the past,” she replied with heat in her cheeks. “But the circumstances have changed, and it’s not something I can overlook now.”

 

He looked at her, the question in his eyes, but she kept the details to herself. She wasn’t ready to discuss them with someone else when she was still trying to make sense of them herself. “I see,” was his reply. “So I suppose this complicates things on your end.”

 

“That’s an accurate assessment. What is your advice for me in this situation?”

 

His amusement showed in a smile as his eyes slipped closed. But she didn’t feel like he was laughing at her. If anything, he was supportive and calm as always. “I need more information than that. After all, I understand if this is confusing for you, but I don’t know what the problem with the situation is yet.”

 

Naoto took a deep breath and looked at him inquisitively. “Did Kanji-kun talk to you about this?”

 

Souji sipped his tea before answering. “I gave him some pointers on how to talk to you when I came back here in May. But if he’s talking to you now, then it’s news to me.”

 

She wilted a little at that. “I… I see. So I simply confirmed your suspicions.”

 

“I’d be more surprised if he didn’t say anything to you, Naoto. But that’s beside the point. What’s the problem?”

 

It was embarrassing to say it, and unusual since she never had a problem with words before. But it was necessary. “His attraction isn’t something I’m accustomed to dealing with. Not when it’s presented so directly.”

 

“You seemed pretty popular at school, as I recall,” Souji pointed out, crossing his legs and leaning back.

 

She shook her head with a sardonic chuckle. “That was different – none of those were sincere offers of partnership or understanding. They were just idle fantasies born of curiosity, nothing more.”

 

“So you’re off balance when someone is sincere? I mean, Kanji’s not subtle when it comes to his intentions. You’d know if he were lying to you.” Even his voice was smooth, keeping her from losing control. No judgement, no concern, just rock-steady serenity.

 

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach as he spoke. He was hitting the very issues she’d wanted to slowly work into, and he knew he was doing it. She felt her feathers ruffle a little at how direct he was being. “It’s not that simple, and just because Kanji-kun’s putting an effort into this… this aspiration doesn’t mean that things will work out. Or that I’ll feel the same way about it.”

 

He shook his head, never breaking eye contact with her. “That sounds like you’re running away, Naoto. And no one fell in love without being a little bit brave,” he told her quietly, staring her in the eye.

 

His gaze was the only thing holding her in place when she heard the word ‘love’. A flash of hot and cold ran through her, and she struggled to find her words. They’d fled her, however, along with her rising temper. Love? Why had he said that? “S-senpai! W-what makes y-you think I’m in l-love?!”

 

He held out a calming hand, not moving out of his chair. “It’s a saying, Naoto. I don’t mean that’s what’s going on in this situation, but my point is that if you want to find out what’s happening between you two, you’ll need to throw the dice at some point. Even being friends means some give and take, some bad with the good.”

 

She regained her composure enough to find her words and regain control of her expression. It was mortifying, how easily he could arouse a reaction in her. “It’s not that simple, Senpai.

 

“Do you not want to talk to him?”

 

It wasn’t that simple anymore. “This isn’t about talking to each other. We worked together during the investigation with a consistent level of success. But things are different now.”

 

“Does he offend you?” She didn’t answer at first, and he continued unabated. “I’d understand if you said he wasn’t your type, or if he was too tall or you didn’t think he’d get along with your grandfather. Or is it his arts and crafts?”

 

She knew what he was doing: asking leading questions so she would come up with the answers herself, or at least see the holes in her own logic. But knowing what he was doing didn’t stop her from responding to his questions. Even when she remembered how close Kanji had been to her during their last fitting session with a shiver. “Of course not,” she told him with as much strength as she could. “You should know that I don’t place value on such superficial matters. What you’ve described is part of who he is, after all. And I knew about his talents even before I met you. They weren’t an oddity then, and they aren’t now.”

 

He spread his hands then, leaning forward and commanding her attention. “Then what’s the problem? I understand if you want to take things slow or don’t want to rush into anything without thinking things over, but I can’t help you very much if I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

 

“Why do you think there’s anything wrong with him at all, Senpai?”

 

“Because you haven’t told me why it won’t work between you two. There must be some reason, or you wouldn’t be here.”

 

She blinked. He stared. And silence reigned between them. “What do you mean?” Her voice was trembling, just a little. She blamed it on a draft she knew wasn’t there.

 

Despite having the upper hand, he didn’t look happy with it. He didn’t look unhappy either. He just sat on his side of the table. “I mean that you’ve been defending him this whole time, no matter what subject we bring up. If you aren’t sure about where you want this thing between you, whatever it is, to go, then that’s fine. But it feels like you’re dragging your feet.”

 

“I… That’s not the case. I want– That is, I feel that– He wouldn’t–“

 

“Naoto,” he murmured, and she heard him perfectly over her own frantic thoughts and directionless babbling. “What are you so afraid of?”

 

And her brain stopped. Just stopped. She couldn’t formulate a reply, couldn’t protest at his presumption, or keep his words from looping over and over and over in her mind. She couldn’t say anything in her own defence. There were no words to say.

 

“Kanji’s not the sort to push you into something you’re not comfortable with. I think he’s letting you make the next move. If you want to be friends, I’m sure he’d be happy for the chance. If you want it to be something more, he’d probably let you set the pace to things. And if you aren’t sure, then talk to him and figure it out together.”

 

She started scrabbling for something to say. “I… we’re… this isn’t like what you and Yukiko-senpai share.”

 

“No, it isn’t. I’m not Kanji, and you aren’t Yukiko. Everyone’s different, but the trick is in finding what works for you. And that means that you have to want to make it work. So do you?”

 

She couldn’t look at him, feeling his words hit her where she thought she was safe. It wasn’t fair. How did he know? Why did he have to say it so easily? She stopped looking away and turned a cold glare at him, ire returning and resentment burning on her face. “I suppose you believe I should entertain that notion? Initiate a romantic relationship because it worked for you? Nothing is so simple. I’m not you, Senpai, and I’d appreciate you respecting that fact.”

 

His eyes, inquisitive and non-judging, turned steely. His expression shifted into an expression of direct skepticism that told her _don’t give me that crap_. “I’m not pushing you into anything, Naoto. It’s your life, and it’s your choice to make. Do it, or don’t. No one’s judging you. My only point is that you still haven’t told me why being friends with Kanji can’t work. And I think you’re better than just brushing him off because you aren’t sure of yourself. Honestly, what’s holding you back?”

 

“You…” Her snappy reply died with her antagonism, now replaced with a bone-deep fatigue. She couldn’t stay angry with him, not when she knew he was right. And it wasn’t fair to treat him like this – she’d asked him for help, after all. “You don’t make this easy, Senpai.”

 

The chill around him warmed at her words, and his reply came to her on a soft murmur. “Matters of the heart never are. That’s why they’re worth it.”

 

“I’m a real mess, aren’t I?”

 

“No. You’re just human. Sometimes life drops a bomb on us, and all we can do is try to pick up what’s left and make the best of it.”

 

She sighed and looked to the dark, smooth ceiling. “Why me?”

 

“Why not you? He has his reasons, and they make sense to him.”

 

“Why him?”

 

“Because it’s unconventional. And that could be the reason it works.”

 

“Why now?”

 

“If it wasn’t now, it’d be later. He’s been working toward this for a while, and there’s no time like the present.”

 

“What should I do?”

 

“I have no idea. But I think you’ll make the right decision, whatever you choose.”

 

“But what will that be?”

 

He didn’t respond. Maybe he’d run out of answers. Perhaps he was waiting to see how she reacted. And it was possible that he didn’t see the need to speak. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had – she had enough on her mind.

 

“I’d hoped you could have given me some answers on this topic,” she murmured finally. “All I have now are more questions.”

 

“Sometimes knowing what you don’t know is more useful than having an answer.”

 

She chuckled blandly. “I know that. I should know that. But nothing… none of this makes any sense now.”

 

He didn’t reply. Instead he just leaned back and looked out the porch doors, as calm as ever. Naoto looked out over the Dojima yard with a long sigh. She knew she wasn’t going to get any closer to her answers, even with Senpai’s help. She rose wordlessly, thanked him, and went toward the door to collect her shoes. To her knowledge, he was still sitting there when she left. She didn’t look back to find out.

 

 

Four days later, she was sitting at her desk, drumming her fingers on her work table. And she _never_ drummed her fingers – she hated the sound, the monotony. It was too loud and threw off her thoughts. It was the same with clocks. She never sat in the parlor where the Shirogane grandfather clock stood, for the very same reason. And even her restored pocket watch was now quieter than when it was originally made. But her thoughts weren’t broken by the sound this time – they were the cause of the action in the first place.

 

In front of her lay the last order she’d made at Tatsumi Textiles. Her coats and slacks, beautifully made and exactly the shade she wanted them in, lay in the bottom of the package, smelling of the incense Tatsumi-san used in the front part of the store. A smaller, more discrete package rested next to it, containing the articles promised from Tatsumi-san herself. Naoto had what she’d gone there for. Her wardrobe was updated and resized, and the matter of her clothes not fitting was resolved. There was no reason to go back there. So why was she still feeling agitated? She had picked through her dinner after the packages arrived, and hadn’t been able to get her mind off the conversation with Senpai. Or the events of the last two weeks, for that matter.

 

No. She was lying to herself. She knew why she was still turning her mind in metaphorical circles. It was because the business with Kanji-kun wasn’t concluded yet. And trying to stamp ‘Case Closed’ on the matter wasn’t working. Naoto ceased her drumming of fingers and instead wrapped them together, trying to focus her mind on the problem at hand. The unexpected development of Kanji’s attraction to her.

 

She shook her head with a disbelieving smile. The idea was still as ludicrous as it was when Yosuke-senpai and the others were making light of it. It wasn’t anything against Kanji-kun, it was just that…

 

_You haven’t told me why it won’t work._

 

The problem wasn’t that it wouldn’t work between them, but why him? What did he see in her that he didn’t see in Chie-senpai or Rise-san? He’d never expressed interest in any of the girls at school either. Surely he’d see something he liked in someone else. That was far a far more likely scenario.

 

…But if that were the case, why hadn’t she seen him with any girls when she’d met him? Or since the murder cases were solved? She didn’t even know what sort of girl he liked, now that she thought about it, so how had he come from nowhere and blindsided her?

 

_C’mon, you know that ain’t important. It’s not about looking like a girl or a guy – you’re you, an’ that’s all there is to it._

It wasn’t that simple. It couldn’t be.

 

_What are you afraid of?_

 

She wasn’t afraid. Not entirely. Perhaps she just didn’t want someone to see her in a way she didn’t see herself. She was a Shirogane, after all. An ace detective, an intuitive genius. She didn’t aim to be feminine, to stand out in a crowd or catch attention from members of the opposite sex. How was she supposed to react, therefore when someone defied her expectations and wishes for anonymity and confronted her on the matter?

 

It was unexpected, and represented an unknown variable in the plans for her life. Something that bore no precedent, offered no template from which she could work. The situation with Kanji-kun simply wasn’t something she understood or could explain.

 

Naoto went still at that thought. Was that it? Was she afraid of the unknown, and letting that stay her hand? She wasn’t a stranger to taking risks for the sake of answers, but those answers were often sought on her terms, not those of others.

 

She sighed. It was almost 10pm, and she was still thinking in circles. Perhaps there were some books she could consult on the matter. She turned in her chair and looked toward her bookshelves, but the motion sent her hair into her eyes again. Her fists clenched. She shot to her feet and stormed over to the phone on her desk. That was it – she’d been lax in scheduling an appointment for a haircut, and it was time to correct that oversight. It was getting too unruly, and she didn’t look good with long hair. No one at the police station would take her seriously if she looked more feminine than she already did.

 

She reached for the receiver, but her fingers froze on it. Her breath caught as her treacherous mind found another memory to torment her with. _It… I don’t think it’s a problem at all. You’d look good that way._ That’s right – he liked the idea of her with long hair. Or at least it wasn’t a defining characteristic for him. But then he was satisfied with how she was, no matter what.

 

She blinked and looked up, through her messy bangs and into the night while her hand rested on the phone.

 

She wasn’t the sort of girl that men pursued, no matter what the poll of the beauty contest had suggested. She was a detective, and she had a job and a legacy to live up to. That wouldn’t change. It was who she was.

 

Did Kanji-kun understand that? Whatever he did would have to work around her priorities, no matter where they took her. Extended absences for her assignments or cases, or for when she went to university to pursue the degrees appropriate to her career. She had a life of her own she had to consider. Would that kind of compromise be acceptable to him?

 

He was set to inherit his family’s business, and would no doubt have to focus on that. Long hours, isolation when working on orders, and, with all likelihood, staying in Inaba. Was that suitable for her? Perhaps she should have asked Yukiko-senpai about that – she had the Amagi Inn, after all. But it was too late now.

 

She stared out her window, not seeing her reflection with its long, unruly hair or the polished glass or the darkness outside. She was alone with her thoughts, and they were no more in order than they had been that morning. Time passed, she didn’t know how much, but she sighed finally and let the receiver go. Her clothes dropped into a heap on the carpet that would have appalled her some other time, but didn’t even register to her as she slipped into her new pajamas, fit to her size while leaving room to grow. The lights dimmed, and she lay down on her futon and pulled the covers over herself, eyes heavy with the promise of sleep.

 

Tomorrow. She’d deal with it tomorrow.

 

And with that, she passed into the world of dreams.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

 

Tatsumi Kanji had been through a lot of ups and downs in his life. And all of those ups and downs had come with a complimentary ticket for the most twisted track of his own emotional roller coaster. His father dying and leaving him without a male role model when he was young; trying to take care of his mother to the point of tearing through the local biker gangs just so she could get some sleep; becoming the mask of the reckless, dangerous kid to do what he thought he had to do; having his past come to life in that gods-forsaken sauna; and, finally, Senpai’s talks that led him to really feel like himself again. And he wasn’t ashamed of any of that now. He could face the past and deal with it, like he’d promised Senpai, and he’d grow from his mistakes.

 

But that resolution was hard to hang onto when he was feeling this way and he had no one and nothing else to blame it on except himself. Sure, that wasn’t a particularly new feeling, but it didn’t make the realization any easier to take, and knowing the nature of the problem simply wasn’t making him feel calm or in control. No, he was feeling like himself, and himself was leaving him pretty fucking pissed right now.

 

It was a few days after he’d told Naoto point-blank that he liked her, that she was pretty impressive on her own. And more than impressive, which she seemed to pick up on. That was the problem though – in the past few days, he hadn’t heard a thing in return. No calls to say he’d been unprofessional or crossed the line, no complaints to his mother or his other clientele, and no message left saying that she wanted to discuss the matter. He’d thought that the worst that could’ve happened was her turning down his attentions and cutting him off. Much as that would’ve made things awkward around them when the group got together, he’d thought he could handle it. Or maybe they could work something out so things would be civil. But now he was reconsidering that idea because the silence was driving him up the wall. Sure, she didn’t talk much in the first place, and that was fine because he never knew what to say around her anyway, but even her chewing him out would have been a welcome change to this.

 

For him, not knowing where he stood was the one position that pissed him off the most. He couldn’t go forward because he wanted to see what Naoto would do, and he wasn’t sure if he should call and apologize because, really, had he done something wrong? It left him at a mental stalemate, and he itched with frustration, heat and sparks putting his nerves on edge and shortening his now-volatile temper.

 

He shouldn’t’ve listened to Kirigaya before he talked to Naoto. It was his fault that things were this awkward and that he made as much sense as he did.

 

It had been a few days before that last appointment. He’d been looking up at the shrine from the sidewalk, feeling an odd mix of peace and agitation stirring under his skin, prickling at his nerves like his limbs had fallen asleep and then come back awake. But remembering when Naoto came to get her clothes sized gave him a sense of calm that he was still getting used to, and it wasn’t until his cheeks started getting sore that he realized that he was smiling. He thought about her hesitance, her inquisitive look around his work space, how much she’d grown since he’d seen her and started filling out her clothes, and her longer hair that added a softness and a maturity to her that he didn’t think he’d ever see. She was plenty mature as it was, after all, so seeing her even more so while she hadn’t changed in the least was a welcome and unexpected surprise.

 

Which, of course, made trying to talk to her on a deeper level, to push things a bit and see where they could go, if they could, and explore things together, a lot harder. She was hard to talk to when he wasn’t sure how he felt or what he was trying to say – now that he had the words, saying them became that much harder. Which was why he found himself at the shrine, a messy human stew of twitchy agitation, steady calm, and, though he’d die before admitting it, deep affection.

 

He’d been about to head up to the shrine itself, considering how well he got along with the fox, when Kirigaya turned the corner at the intersection and called out to him, immediately coming over to talk. And that was exactly what happened – Kirigaya talked, starting by thanking Kanji for putting in a good word for him with Souji-senpai, then mentioning some new manga he’d picked up and their authors and characters, and finally mentioning the different drawing techniques used in some of those manga. The funny thing was, Kanji was still thinking over his situation with Naoto by the time Kirigaya finished, since the one-sided greeting had taken less than three minutes from start to finish, which was pretty long for Kirigaya.

 

“So what’re you doing here?” Kirigaya asked, finally taking note of the _torii_  and the shrine steps nearby. “I thought you’d be working or running errands.”

 

“Needed to think,” was Kanji’s simple response, glancing up to the top of the hill again. Now that he thought about it, maybe the fox needed a new bib. Odds were that, for all the donation money it got, no one considered its needs. His mind immediately went back into his memories, recalling what he bib looked like and what designs were on it. Maybe a good deed like that would spot him some good luck. Enough for him to figure out this thing with Naoto. “And it’s not bad out here. Good air, nice breeze, helps clear my head.” To prove his point, he took in a deep breath of air so cold that it stung his throat and lungs, but it wasn’t enough to make him shiver. Unlike Kirigaya, who was bundled up to the ears in layers and hats and still looked like he was trying to stop from shivering.

 

But the shivering wasn’t in his voice when he spoke. “Something bothering you?”

 

Kanji blinked, then glanced to the side, looking at his friend. “Nothing more than usual. Why?”

 

Kirigaya shrugged, letting out a long stream of white breath on the exhale. “I’m not sure. You just seem more… I don’t know what the word is. You’re different from before, that’s all.”

 

Kanji wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it, or if he’d given it any thought before he opened his mouth. Maybe he needed to talk to someone about the situation with Naoto, to hear his thoughts spoken out loud, to get some perspective. “Just thinking about a friend,” he replied shortly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

 

“Are you talking about Seta-san?” Souji-senpai hadn’t had the time to talk to Kirigaya about Ebihara Ai yet, so it made sense that’s where his mind would go first.

 

Kanji shook his head and readjusted his jacket. “No. Shirogane Naoto. We worked together last year, and she came into the store the other day. It was good to see her again, and just made things… I dunno. Different.”

 

“Shirogane? Oh, you mean the Detective Prince? I’ve heard about him. Her,” he replied quickly, even faster than his usual 250 words/minute when he was excited. “Like how she’s one of the most popular students in her year, but she doesn’t like the attention, so she doesn’t talk to very many people. I heard that Seta-san was on her short list, though. Like, one of the people she’d talk to regularly. Probably not a big surprise there.”

 

“Senpai got along with almost everyone,” Kanji replied shortly once he interpreted exactly what had been said. “And it’s not like she’s a snob or looks down on people and refuses to talk to them because she’s better than them. It’s more like…” he looked into the trees, deep in thought and trying to find the right words. “…like she’s better at facts and mysteries than with people problems. I mean, you’d never hear about her pining after some guy because she thought he was good looking or something. She’s too smart for that. And that’s why she’s hard to talk to. For me, anyway.”

 

Kirigaya was quiet for moment, and only a moment, as he processed the information, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. The look in his eyes showed that he picked up on what Kanji was really saying, or at least knew enough to put a few pieces together. Then he looked up with that familiar gleam in his eye, and Kanji’s groan was swept away by a new wave of enthusiasm, riding on the current of manga-nese. “If Naoto-san’s hard to talk to, then maybe she’s kinda like Touma Saya, from _SPEC_. Really smart with books and academics and stuff, but she doesn’t connect with people because she can’t read to mood around people as well. If that’s the case, then it’s easy to see why she might not socialize much – because she has a problem with reading people’s feelings.”

 

Kanji blinked in surprise. For Kirigaya comparing Naoto to a girl from a manga or a TV show, or whatever he was talking about, that actually made a bit of sense. Some, but not a whole lot. “She’s pretty good around people too, you know,” he supplied. “Not like Senpai when it comes to getting through to them, but she’s not bad on her own.”

 

Unabated, Kirigaya continued with only the slightest pause, getting into his element. “Or maybe she’s like Pao-Lin Huang, from _Tiger & Bunny_. I mean, I heard that Naoto-san doesn’t wear the standard girl’s uniform to school, so do you think she’s got something against her feminine image? Prefers the male side of things because it’s what she understands? She doesn’t sound like the sort to wear makeup or skirts, from how you’ve described her.” Kanji tried imagining Naoto in a skirt, maybe in a girl’s school uniform, and found the image both weird in its unfamiliarity and very appealing, like he was seeing a side of her that he knew she’d never show anyone. The makeup was a total bust though – there was no way she’d wear stuff like that without there being a professional angle to it. Kirigaya kept going, unabated. “Could also be that she’s like Asada Shino. _Sword Art Online_ , if you’ve heard of it.”

 

Kanji’s eyes narrowed at the familiar title from the poster he’d seen on the book store’s front window. “Ain’t that a series of books about a girl who’s into shooter games and gets trapped in an online game or something? Like, they have to play the game and win or it kills them? Naoto ain’t like that at all. I mean, maybe the shooting part, but I dunno if she’s ever played a video game.”

 

Kirigaya, of course, picked up on where Kanji tripped up and tilted his head to the side, curiosity evident in his eyes and features. “Hm? She’s into shooting? Like, guns?”

 

“Uh, well, kinda. Not like in games, but she– Nah, nevermind. Point is, she’s not into gaming, so I dunno where you’re getting that idea from.”

 

That seemed to be enough, because his friend scratched behind his ear in thought, setting his earrings tapping against each other, before he made his next suggestion. “Asada’s known for her distant personality. She uses the games to get over her fear of guns, which is the result of a trauma in her past. And because of all that, she’s pretty distant. Maybe that’s how Naoto-san is.”

 

Naoto had lost her parents when she was young. Kanji remembered how calm she’d been when she told the story. But that was it – she wasn’t hung up on their deaths. She was proud of who and what she was, more so now than before. She wasn’t running from anything. She wasn’t the type. “I wouldn’t call her distant,” Kanji murmured. “She opens up just fine around the others, and she doesn’t run from anything. Just that I ain’t got a clue as to how to talk to her.”

 

Kirigaya continued, undaunted by the task of trying characterize a person he’d never talked to in person. “But there are bits and pieces of this that we can use, right? Like if we found some other characters to compare her to, maybe we could see what sorts of approaches work best. Then we can see what works for you.”

 

“Are you basing these ideas of yours off of any real people?” Kanji demanded, getting tired of the questions. “Because it seems like all your examples are chicks from manga or shows or whatever. Naoto ain’t some 2D brush job, you know – she’s a real person. So if you’re gonna help me, shouldn’t we be looking at real people and how they react to figure this out?”

 

Most people would have cowered in the face of Kanji’s temper. To his credit, Kirigaya just flinched a bit. And Kanji wasn’t sure if that was a flinch or just more shivering. “Well… the creators of those shows and manga base their characters of real people and character traits, and the way you’ve described Naoto-san, it seems like there’re some similarities. And lots of people like those characters because of how real they seem, so it’s not that farfetched.”

 

Kanji grunted, half turning in place. “I think it’d be pretty tough to get attached to a girl on a page. Nothin’ against you, just that they ain’t like normal girls.”

 

One of Kirigaya’s hands tilted up in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture. “Say that about Kinoko Nasu and one of his lead heroines from Fate/Stay Night, Tohsaka Rin. She’s got her own international fan club because of how real she seems, and it’s hard to overlook something when that many people agree with it. To get back to my point though, you seem to know Naoto-san pretty well. So why’re you thinking it over?” There wasn’t any sarcasm in the question. He was genuinely curiously.

 

Kanji narrowed his eyes. Why wouldn’t he think things over? He did a lot of thinking, no matter what those idiots at school said. “What do you mean? Thinking what over?”

 

There was a rustle as Kirigaya shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, you had a reason for why she was different every time I names a character she could’ve been like. Seems to me you couldn’t do that if she were a complete stranger. If you’re already this well acquainted, then why is it hard to talk to her?”

 

Kanji snorted in irritation. More at himself for tripping over his own ideas than at Kirigaya for making his points. “Because she ain’t a complete stranger. I know her enough to describe her because we worked together, like I said before. We hung out with the same crowd, have a few of the same friends, that sorta thing. Sure, we knew each other well enough to keep things going easy, but this is different. I mean, some things just don’t come up in discussions at the table over Topsicles and ikayaki, right?”

 

Kirigaya’s eyes lit up and he became more animated, eager to make another point and, probably, to keep warm. “But maybe that’s the point – if you’re looking for the right situation or time and place and it’s not coming, then maybe waiting’s more trouble than it’s worth. Make your own situation and setting and time, or just go ahead in spite of what’s going on. Not making that decision’s the same as overthinking it to death, right?”

 

Kanji’s teeth gritted as his past attempts of talking to Naoto came to mind. How the wrong words always seemed to come out, no matter how he tried to make them work for him. “So I should just say it out loud then? Screw the buildup and the problems it might cause, just tell her that she’s a great person to be around and that I wanna be more than friends. Point blank and in person, that what you think?”

 

He got a shrug as a response. “Well, it does seem like something you’d do. It really seems like something you’d do, actually.”

 

Kirigaya was right on that point: It was something he’d do. That was the problem. “It’s crazy. I’ve tried that, and it hasn’t worked yet. Keep saying the wrong things, or she misses the point, or Yosuke-senpai makes some smartass joke and things move on. If getting things through to her were that simple, I wouldn’t need any help.”

 

“I’d say to tell her in a way that she can’t misinterpret, then. Tell her or show her and make it so you’re completely clear. She sounds like a smart girl, so I’m sure she’ll get the point if the evidence is in front of her.”

 

Oddly, Kirigaya being right about Naoto’s strong acumen only irritated Kanji more. He leaned forward and down, closing the height distance between them, and gave a sharp stare that he knew was bordering on challenging. “Hmph. Yeah, right. Tell her straight. That worked for you yet?”

 

That made Kirigaya back up a bit, his momentum lost by the mention of his object of affections. “I’m… uh… I’m waiting on that for now. I thought I’d see what worked for you since you’re further along with Naoto-san than I am with… well, never mind. I mean, until I talk to Seta-san, or learn more about Ai-san, there’s not much to do, right?”

 

Kanji checked his watch and realized he had to get back to the shop – he had appointments to see to, and maybe working with his hands would help things make sense in his head. And whether Kirigaya had run out of steam, or had gotten cold feet when someone brought up Ebihara, he said his farewells a minute or two after and disappeared around the curve of the road leading to the book store.

 

Just tell her, eh? Maybe there was something to that. When he thought about it, he had a place that he felt more comfortable in, maybe enough that he could say something to her. And she was coming by the next day, so maybe he’d have a chance to test the theory.

 

Kanji pulled out of his memories and sighed. No, Kirigaya didn’t deserve to be blamed. Behind the awkward comparisons and unapologetic manga-nese and otaku-speak, he’d genuinely tried to be helpful. That said, Kanji wanted to cuff him hard for putting those ideas in his head – maybe if Kanji’d kept his ideas to himself and not opened his mouth, Naoto wouldn’t have been scared off. Or freaked out, because she probably wasn’t scared. Or it could be that she was just busy with her own stuff. But couldn’t she call just to let him know–

 

He bit off another string of profanities and slammed his heels into the ground, taking his anger out on the pavement. In spite of the cold, he was warm with frustration. His jaw alternated between clenched and loose, which only pissed him off more when he realized he was doing it, and he kept having to find something to do with his hands. Crossed. Uncrossed. Jacket pockets. Back pockets. Other pockets. He clenched them into fists and focused on keeping them still, but it didn’t take the edge off. Nothing did. And as tempting as the store walls looked, he still remembered his cracked knuckles from when Nanako-chan died. As easy as it might’ve been, violence wasn’t an answer this time. No, what he needed was help from someone he trusted. Someone who wouldn’t laugh at the situation he’d gotten himself in. Senpai was off the list – he’d said he was going to Okina City with Nanako-chan, and Kanji didn’t want to interrupt them with a phone call. And he preferred talking to Senpai face to face when he could. So he’d have to find someone else, and that list was pretty short already. He needed someone who could take him and the circumstances seriously, give him sound advice, and who knew Naoto and the situation he was in.

 

He doubted Chie-senpai could help, given her experience with relationships. Rise didn’t know the score, so she was out. Yosuke-senpai might have some advice, but Kanji couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t try to flatten him when his brand of ‘humour’ entered the conversation. And it would, because it always did. And Kanji didn’t even consider talking to Teddie.

 

_Tch._ His eyes narrowed as he stopped at the bus sign, tapping his foot idly. It figured – even when they were kids, she was someone he could count on for advice, no matter what the subject was. Even when they’d grown apart and gone their separate ways before Senpai’s arrival shook everything up, he still thought of the conversations they’d had together and the advice her parents gave him when he’d visited the Inn. And it seemed like his feet knew that he needed her help again.

 

He gave a bracing sigh and checked his wallet for bus fare, waiting for a lift to the Amagi Inn. And he hoped it got him somewhere.

 

\---

 

The Inn never changed. That was part of the point, he figured, since people loved the old feel of a good _ryokan_ and the history of the building. To him, it felt like a return to his childhood, and always left him feeling awkward. His boots and bleached hair and black leather jacket didn’t have a place in a place with a lineage so distinguished that the wood beams were older than the town itself, and he knew he stood out. Luckily, there weren’t many people in the front entrance, but he had to stop himself from waiting until someone came to get him or fetch Yukiko-senpai. Instead, he texted her and she met him in a matter of minutes, taking him to one of the side rooms, complete with a low table sporting cups, a tea pot and snacks he remembered from their childhood. It was touching that she remembered those details, and went out of her way to make him feel comfortable. With as much restraint as he could, he picked out a few of his favourites and ate them as slowly as good manners dictated, trying to show a measure of decorum and not wolf them down. That wasn’t why he was here.

 

Still, Yukiko-senpai’s smile told him she noticed his restraint, and her familiarity and calm presence did a good job of easing the uncertainty in his mind. “They’re not penguins crackers,” she told him after she was done pouring the tea and letting it steep. “But they should do.”

 

His lips pulled up in a surprised smile. Another detail of his that she hadn’t missed. “Nah, these’re great. Animal crackers can wait a while.”

 

She settled in place, the very picture of poise that he, despite his considerable talents, would be hard-pressed to recreate if he were asked. She was wearing the pink kimono that he’d made her for work a few years ago, and he was proud to see that, despite how much he knew she worked around the Inn, it was still in good shape without any wear patches or frayed threads. “Of course. So, what did you want to talk about?”

 

Kanji put his tea down and whipped his thoughts into order. He didn’t need another rapid-fire list of weird names, or a bunch of reasons why Naoto was sorta-kinda-almost like someone else. “I have a problem with Naoto,” he told his friend straight out. She blinked a few times, but didn’t respond any other way. “I know that’s nothing new, but hear me out. I got some advice from a guy I know about how to talk to her, and I know that sounds weird because I talk to her when we all get together and have parties and stuff, but this was different. And I might’ve screwed up in a way that’s…”

 

“More personal?” she supplied, and he nodded. Personal. That was a good word for it.

 

“Yeah. You know about how things are between us, and how I… well, y’know.”

 

She had the grace not to laugh, instead nodding at his words with an encouraging smile. “I know you’ve had trouble talking to her before. Has something changed recently?”

 

He took a deep, bracing breath. Well, this was why he came here. No chance to be a wimp and bow out now. “She came to the shop to get some clothes and sizing done, and we got to talking. She wanted to cut her hair, and I said it looked fine.”

 

A slender hand came up to her face, one of her fingers running the length of her cheek in contemplation. “So you’re concerned about her fashion sense?”

 

“’Course not. What she does is up to her. But we got to talking about why. Had an alright discussion about it, I think. Then she came back for another sizing, and I… told her I like her. Just like that.”

 

He said the last words in a rush, and Yukiko-senpai gave a small ‘oh’ of understanding, then looked at him thoughtfully. “What did she do after that?”

 

He pushed away the memories of how long the rest of that day felt. It wasn’t easy. “Nothing. I said what was on my mind, and she didn’t say anything. Just walked out like she didn’t hear anything else. And I haven’t heard from her since.” He sighed and tried not to let his sour mood infect his words, but it was a hard battle – just bringing up the incident was bringing him down. “I know I say the wrong things around her a lot of the time. Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. Trying to talk to her never worked before.”

 

“No,” she told him immediately, a show of steel in her voice. “That’s exactly what you shouldn’t have done. Trying nothing changes nothing, and we don’t grow if we stay in our own little boxes, right?”

 

“This is different. If I hadn’t said anything, she wouldn’t reacted that way.”

 

“But if you’re right, then nothing would have changed,” she pointed out. “You showed some initiative, and no matter where it goes, it was a brave thing to do. And I don’t think you would’ve been honest with yourself if you hadn’t said how you felt about her. I think it was the right thing to do.”

 

“Yeah.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness and the traces of anger from his voice, and he knew she wouldn’t mind. She never did, so long as he didn’t take it out on her furniture. “And look where it got me – fat lot of good, don’tcha think?”

 

She straightened in her seat, commanding his attention with her dark eyes that were so familiar, but so much more grown up than he remembered. “You don’t know that. You said she hasn’t called or responded yet, and that could be all it means – that she’s confused or dealing with her own feelings and isn’t sure how to talk to you yet, but still might. Not everything’s been decided, right? So don’t give up just because you tried something new.”

 

He sighed, then reached for another cookie. “And if I screwed it up? Like, past the point of repairing it?”

 

Yukiko-senpai smiled at his words, accepting and comforting and not patronizing in the least. “I don’t think Naoto wouldn’t forgive you, at least not without talking to you first. But even if she does, she might not know all the sides to the story yet. And I can help you with that, if you need me to.”

 

Yeah, that sounded just like his old friend. Sometimes he wondered if they’d grown apart as kids because he’d stopped talking to her, struggling with his own problems. He shook his head. That wasn’t important. They were friends now. That was what mattered. “It ain’t your problem, Yukiko-senpai. No need for you to get involved.”

 

“We’re friends, Kanji-kun. I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there when you needed me for something.” Her dark eyes were sober and intense, but not invasive. Sable and steel, the same eyes he’d seen when looking over drawing sheets and drafting pages when he’d been a kid. And he had the sudden feeling that he knew that look. Her expression, the set of her eyes and brows, even her posture, confident and solid, steady enough to support and unwavering if he ever tried to push her back: It was the same as Senpai. The differences were obvious, since Yukiko-senpai looked nothing like her boyfriend, but in that moment, he knew where her strength was coming from. And he knew that she wasn’t wrong. Same as he knew Senpai wouldn’t have been wrong if he’d been there.

 

“Maybe you’re right,” he admitted, feeling the air go out of him with each word.

 

“Have faith in yourself,” she told him gently, the steel softening in a second. “And in her. You weren’t wrong for saying what you did, and we don’t know how she’ll react. If things don’t go well, then we’ll take it one step at a time.”

 

She made no special emphasis on ‘we’ when she was speaking, but Kanji knew that she’d move Hell and Earth if she thought his situation was going sideways. Her and Senpai both. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or afraid of what they could accomplish. He still felt like a kid, coming to ask her for help like this, but in spite of that, it was good to have those reassurances. That he wasn’t alone.

 

And perhaps that was what inspired his next question. Soft as snow falling, he asked “Hey, Yukiko-senpai? What would you call, y’know, what’s going on between you and Souji-senpai?”

 

“We love each other,” she told him immediately, without a moment’s pause, and as certain as if she was saying that spring would come after winter. Not an opinion or a belief, but fact, spoken without a second of hesitation. And it wasn’t just how she said it, or that she said it so easily. Her posture, her expression of happiness and acceptance and determination, they all told him that she knew what she was feeling, and she knew it was real.

 

He envied her certainty. Her unwavering faith in what she felt, something she could name and accept. “Must be nice,” he told her. “I dunno what this thing is with me and Naoto. What I’d call it or if it even has a name. It’s a pain in the ass, y’know?”

 

“Do you think it might be a crush?” she inquired lightly.

 

Kanji let out a long breath, not saying anything at first. Calling it a ‘crush’ sounded shallow to him. Cheap. And what he felt for Naoto, no matter how hard it was to explain, certainly wasn’t cheap. “I dunno,” he replied finally. “ I don’t think so, but damned if I know what to call it.”

 

“I see,” Yukiko-senpai responded, taking another sip of her tea, dark eyes distant and thoughtful.

 

“So,” he started awkwardly, looking for a change in the topic, a short reprieve from the heavy topics, “how’re things? I mean, you’re gonna graduate soon, right?”

 

Her face lit up when he said those words. “Yes. After exams, and Souji will be able to make it, too. He said he’ll be completing his classes by correspondence, so it’s a shame that he won’t be graduating with his friends.”

 

“At least he’s here, right?”

 

She gave a smile at his words a blushed a little. Strange. He didn’t think he’d said anything embarrassing. “Yes, he is. Which reminds me, when you have everything sorted out with Naoto-kun, let me know. I might have a job for you. Something for Souji’s birthday.”

 

He perked up at that. “Sure. Anything for Senpai. Just give me enough time, and I’ll make it happen.”

 

The door slid open with barely a tap, revealing one of the Inn staff he remembered from years ago. Kasai looked to Yukiko, but then to her guest and stopped in the door frame. “Ah. I’m sorry, Yukiko-chan. I didn’t know you were busy. It can wait.”

 

But Kanji had what he came for. He had to be getting back to the shop – Ma had said something about another customer with a complex order to fill, and she’d give him an earful if he was late. “You’re a professional now, Kanji, so you must present yourself as such. Be polite, punctual, and always do the best job you can.” Or something like that. “It’s no problem,” he told his senpai and the inn lady. “I should be going. Thanks, Yukiko-senpai.”

 

She rose out of reflex, her face friendly but her eyes searching. “Of course, Kanji-kun. Did it help?”

 

He let out a deep breath. His break from his problems was over. “Gave me a place to start, I guess.”

 

“I see. Then I hope things work out.” She gave an encouraging smile and a friendly nod. “You’ll make the right choice when the time comes.”

 

He didn’t feel half as sure of himself as she sounded, but he returned the smile anyway. “I appreciate the boost.” Then he turned to Kasai and told her “Sorry about the bother. I’ll get outta your hair now.”

 

“It’s no bother,” Kasai insisted immediately, but Yukiko just shook her head knowingly and walked with him to the side doors before attending to her own business. Kanji shrugged into his coat and started walking back to the downtown district. It was a trip normally done by bus, but he needed the time to think, and he did that best on his own. So he set off, his body recalling the steps from his childhood so his mind could turn his situation over in its metaphorical hands. He was so engrossed in them that he didn’t notice the way the sky smoothed over, or the snow beginning to fall around him, or how cold it’d gotten since he’d left home.

 

Yukiko-senpai had helped put things in perspective, and her confidence in him was nice to have, but it didn’t help him figure out where he should go or how to talk to Naoto about this… thing between them. That didn’t help matters, not knowing what it was. Yukiko-senpai had asked if it was a crush, but he didn’t think so. Crushes were for shy chicks who hid around the corner when the guy they liked walked down the hall, or guys who stuttered and tripped over themselves trying to talk to a cute girl, and fell apart around when they were alone with them.

 

He stopped in place and gave a sharp, angry snort, like a bull preparing to charge. Great. Now he was describing himself when he was around her. Still, it didn’t feel like what he’d call a crush.

 

So what was this? Friendship? Puppy love? Hormones? He could admit that she looked… really good that last time she’d been in his workshop, tight pants and legs and… well, everything about her. She was a complete package, from beauty to brains and everything in between. But it was more than that, and it left him beyond pissed that he didn’t have any words for it. All he knew for sure was how he felt when she was around, and when she wasn’t. Was there a name for it? Did she feel the same way?

 

Hell, was he even ready for this? Sure, he’d talked about it with Souji-senpai, and it seemed like his words worked before. But if that were the case, then where was he supposed to go from here? Wait for her to call? She hadn’t yet. Should he call her? What would he say? “Hey, I know that I mighta scared you before, but I just thought you should know that I’m still into you, and not in that way. I mean, yes, in _that_ way, but not in THAT way.”

 

He shook his head and muttered to himself, “Yeah, because that makes perfect sense.” As ready as he thought he was before, maybe he’d been fooling himself. He didn’t know what he felt about her, had no idea what to call it, and wasn’t even sure it if was returned, or ever would be. Naoto wasn’t easy to scare off, not even under the worst conditions, but he was getting the feeling that maybe he’d been looking at this whole thing wrong. Maybe he just shoulda stayed a friend and companion to her instead of trying to push things. Sure, Souji-senpai said that he’d need to make the first move, and Yukiko-senpai was in his corner too, but they could be wrong about this sorta thing, right?

 

He turned at the intersection, halfway home, and swore under his breath in a cloud of white. No, they weren’t wrong. If they were, then why’d he go to them in the first place? And they knew him and Naoto, so they had a good idea of what was at stake and where he wanted to go with it. Of course, that destination and how he was supposed to get there was the problem.

 

Much as he hated to admit it, this was one time that he envied Kirigaya – girls in manga and anime were probably a lot easier to deal with than those who were flesh and bone. Sure, the guy still had a hopeless crush on Ebihara, but at least he could sound like he knew what he was talking about and what to do next. Kanji was left turning circles in his own mind and winding up cross-eyed for the trouble. Still, he sighed, at least the guy had tried to help. Weird as talking about girls on paper and analyzing them for character traits, he’d made a few good points. And at least he didn’t say it was strange that Kanji liked the Detective Prince. That was more than he could say for anyone else at school.

 

He still hadn’t figured anything out by the time he was passing the Konishi Liquor Store, still doing steady business thanks to Naoki’s initiative and ideas, and the remaining steps to Tatsumi Textiles just made his shoulders stoop more. He tried not to let the prolonged silence get to him, but without something to direct his energy at, all he heard were his inadequacies and where he’d screwed up. He’d get over it, and would keep himself together as best he could next time he saw her. But not yet, and not now. Maybe he’d call Senpai later, hang out with Nanako-chan and make her some more platypus dolls. Yeah, that would work.

 

“I’m home,” he called out half-heartedly as he shut the door behind him and unlaced his boots before kicking them into the corner of the landing.

 

“Welcome home, Kanji,” his mother called, just across the room from him, rearranging the displays and setting out some of his newer creations. Funny. They’d seemed a lot brighter and more innovative when he’d made them. “How is Yukiko-chan?”

 

He shrugged, not willing to let her be infected by his mood. “She’s alright. Looking forward to graduating, probably has something planned for her and Senpai afterwards, the usual for her. You know how she is – always thinking half a year ahead.”

 

His mother chuckled as she continued her work. “That does sound like her.” Then she turned to address him directly. “You have an appointment. The client’s here for a fitting and to go over some details with you in person. I sent them into the back, so be quick. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

 

He restrained the groan that would have given away his frustration, but couldn’t stop from pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ma, I ain’t in the mood for a one on one right now. Did ya have to schedule it for today?”

 

“The client was planning for this meeting for some time, Kanji, and the matter is one you’re familiar with. It shouldn’t be difficult. I wasn’t expecting your meeting with Yukiko-chan to take as long as it did, but now that you’re here, you should see them as soon as you can.” He was tempted to argue the point, but she gave him a look over her glasses that he knew from his childhood. “It’s unbecoming of a professional to be tardy and inefficient with his work, not matter what that work might be. We have a reputation to consider, after all.”

 

There was no winning this one. Years of experience taught him that. So Kanji kept his comments to himself and sighed. “Alright Ma, I gotcha. It won’t be a problem.”

 

She immediately smiled and turned back to the displays. “Perfect! Now, be quick about it. No need to keep them waiting.”

 

He shrugged out of his jacket, fighting with the sleeves and keeping the more colourful parts of his vocabulary quiet enough that his mother didn’t hear him. Once he was free of it, restraining the urge to add some ‘artistic’ rips in the seams, he hung it up on the coat peg and made his way into the back of the store, heading toward his workspace and trying to find his centre. No need to make the day worse, after all, and he didn’t want to snap at a customer who had nothing to do with his personal problems. That said, his mood was easy enough to detect, given how his jaw was locked and the floor was taking a beating from his less-than-calm footsteps. He tried to step softer once he heard how much noise he was making, but it didn’t make any difference.

 

He reached his workshop door and slid it open, not bothering to look at who it was. “Glad you chose us for your order,” he told the customer out of habit, trying not to sound curt. “What can I do for you?”

 

No answer. He completed the turn and slid the door shut, careful enough to not slam it. Professional. Courteous. Focused. If he kept saying it to himself, maybe it would offset the grinding of his teeth. He heard a rustle nearby, the sound of someone moving or shifting in place, and turned to look up, about to greet the client again, when he saw who it was. His mind froze.

 

There she was. Slender and elegant and not as short as even the last time he saw her, she was standing by the window, near where they’d done her sizings, decked out in the ensemble that he’d made for her. He hadn’t been thinking about it when he made the clothes, but they suited her officer’s cap like they’d come from the same set. And he couldn’t remember ever making clothes that looked _that_ good on someone.

 

Naoto’s hands were laced together in front of her waist, and she was looking at him expectantly. When he didn’t move from the entrance, still rooted to the floor by the sight of her, she stepped forward to address him.

 

“I arranged this with your mother, and requested that she not tell you that I was your client. I hope you don’t mind.” That… was strange. Why would she make an appointment but not want him to know about it? She didn’t seem unhappy about the clothes, since she was wearing them. Unless…

 

Despite the sudden tempest of thought that raced through his mind because of her words, she sounded as calm as ever. Even through his tumbling emotions, he didn’t miss how her voice was richer now than even when they’d met at Senpai’s place after Christmas. It wasn’t deeper, per se, but there was a vibrancy to it that had only become obvious since he’d seen her for the fittings. While he tried to make heads from tails of why she was there and what she might want to say, she cleared her throat, calling his attention to her.

 

But she didn’t say anything right away. Rather, she fidgeted. She laced her fingers together, then separated her hands. Then put them together again. And started tapping her fingers on the back of each hand. He hadn’t noticed her nervous ticks before, but he brushed his uncertainty aside and put the boot to his chaotic thoughts, bring a small measure of order to them. Even though the nervousness was still there, fluttering in his chest like a caged bird, the uncertainty was finally gone. She was here, so that had to count for something. Yukiko-senpai said he had to have some faith, so he let her advice guide him because his memory decided right then to be selective on him; everything else they’d talked about was nowhere to be found. He reached out, hands trembling a little, and set the fingers of his left hand on hers, and she jolted in place, backing up a little.

 

“Sorry,” he told her immediately, pulling back and worried that he’d set her off.

 

But he hadn’t. She just shook her head a little, sending her bangs feathering across her face. “It’s not that, but… your hands are cold.”

 

He glanced down at them and shrugged a little to himself. They were starting to sting from the change in temperature as the nerves kicked back to life. “Yeah. Hiked back from Yukiko-senpai’s, and it got colder than I’d thought it would.” She gave him an inquisitive look, and he clarified, “Didn’t bother with the bus. Needed the time to myself, you know?”

 

“I see…” She seemed to be bracing herself for something, but he didn’t know what. Well, she’d tell him when she wanted to. He pulled back his hands, intending to put them in his pockets or on the heater in his room, or, well, something.

 

But he didn’t get the chance. As soon as his hands moved, so did hers. Her slim fingers spread as she reached out, a little hesitantly, and settled over his extended hand. The feel of them, smooth and soft, but still callused, immediately sent his mind in six different directions, distracting him from their warmth and how the feeling seeped into his frigid bones. What was she doing? Was this deliberate? Did it mean what he thought it meant? What did he think it meant? Her cheeks were turning red, slowly but surely, and she wasn’t meeting his eyes as he fingers tightened around his, pulling him a little closer. “This…” she started, then stopped. He fought to keep his mind steady, and waited for her to continue. Because her eyes were twitching rapidly, like she was picking through her massive vocabulary for the right words and thinking of how they sounded in triplicate. Finally her eyes met his, she was still facing off-centre, and not looking at where they were connected. “I’m not accustomed to situations like this,” she told him finally, hedging her words carefully, quietly. Not quiet enough that he couldn’t hear her, but he wouldn’t have if he’d been by the door. “There are no precedents upon which I can draw, nor is there anyone who can assist me in making sense of it. I received an inordinate number of propositions and offers of companionship since I started attending regular classes, but your words the other day were… different from them. This event is unique in nature.”

 

That sounded like her, trying to put word and feelings into their own little boxes. Of course, he knew that was how she worked, how she thought, so it came as no surprise. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told her, finally getting his thoughts in order. “I thought I’d pissed you off or pushed things too far, comin’ on outta the blue like that.”

 

If his words offended her, it didn’t show in the slightest. But her blush was subsiding a little. “I admit that I don’t know what to classify this situation as. How to categorize these circumstances. I find it quite aggravating that this, whatever it might be, defies a simple name.”

 

Her admission to at least thinking about that day, and in a positive… or at least neutral light, was like a weight off his shoulders. He felt a bit light-headed from the rush of relief, but her words brought a smile to his lips – at least he wasn’t the only one not sure about what to call this thing between them. “I’ve been wonderin’ the same thing. For most of the day, now. And none’a the words seem right, y’know?” She seemed as lost as he was, but since his admission to her last time had been enough that she hadn’t been offended, he decided to trust Yukiko-senpai’s advice and keep going. “But I ain’t sorry I said it.”

 

“Nor am I,” she assured him without hesitating. Then a rueful smile crossed her fine lips. “You know, it cost me several nights of sleep, what you told me before. It opened up a great many possible options I simply hadn’t considered before.” She tiled her head back and looked him in the eye, sober and inquisitive, but also content. “Because I find myself at a loss, how do you propose we proceed with this matter? I’m afraid any suggestions I have are inadequate for these circumstances.”

 

That was the trillion-yen question, wasn’t it? He took a few breaths and sent a small prayer to Yukiko-senpai, hoping that she was right about all this. “I told you how I feel before. And I don’t think we need to go over it again. Thing is, I got no clue as to where to go next.” She blinked, aware that he wasn’t done talking yet. “I mean, I ain’t ever had a girlfriend before-“ she leaned back and her eyes widened at the word, and he hurried to finish his thought “-and I ain’t sayin’ that’s what I think you are.” He nearly let out a sigh of relief as she nodded and returned to where she was standing before. “But I do wanna see where this goes. If we’re friends, then great. I’d look forward to that. If… Well, if things change, then we can work at it and figure it out, right?”

 

She smiled at his words, closing her eyes for a moment before taking a breath of her own. “I don’t disagree with your assessment. I haven’t a clue as to what this might be, but,” she tightened her grip on his fingers, now warm from their shared contact, “I’m curious where it might lead. I agree with your proposed course of action. We’ll see where it leads us.”

 

It took a moment for her words to sink in, but when they did, he had to restrain himself from hugging her. That would’ve been pushing things too fast. Instead he just tightened his fingers around hers and grinned. “That’s great. I’m glad we, y’know, talked about this.”

 

“As am I.”

 

“This is pretty awesome.”

 

“I concur.”

 

In their agreement, they both looked down at their entangled digits. She cleared her throat and returned her limbs to her sides, but didn’t step back. They were left without anything to say as they looked at each other, lacking in shame or self-consciousness for the first time.

 

“Uh, hey–“ “So– ”

 

They both stopped, glanced and each other, and chuckled good-naturedly. He nodded at her to start, and she did, though the little smile across her lips, so open and honest, distracted him at first. “I was wondering if I could consult you on a matter of apparel, considering what you made for the last order I placed was exceptional.”

 

He blinked, confused by the sudden change in subject. “Uh, sure. That’s not a problem. Did I miss something last time?”

 

“Not at all. But I feel that a greater variety to my wardrobe might be preferable to only having one or two changes of clothes. Also, some other styles might suit me better than what I have now, and I feel that you would be one to speak to on such matters. Different coats or shirts, different colours, perhaps something might suit longer hair than what I have now if you have the time.”

 

That was the first time she’d mentioned her hair, and it sounded like she wasn’t going to cut it. For some reason, that gave him a thrill that warmed him to the core. That she’d taken his advice and considered what he’d said on the subject gave him hope for where they were going, wherever it happened to be. “I can make that work,” he replied, trying not to let his excitement show. “But if you want to try different colours and styles, then it could take a while. Especially if you want to try different cuts and lengths of shirts and jackets, things like that.”

 

She nodded. Her face was neutral but her eyes glittered in the winter light. “I understand. And several visits would be in order. For consultation and measuring and brainstorming ideas, I believe. It would take quite a bit of time.”

 

He picked up her train of thought and smiled. The weight on his chest and his head full of inadequacies were nowhere to be found. Now, here, around her, he didn’t know what he was worried about or why he’d fretted so much on the way home. Sure, it wasn’t what Souji-senpai and Yukiko-senpai had or might have done, but they didn’t jump into love on the first try either. It took time. It would take time. And time was something he had a lot of. “I’m pretty sure we can make something work.”

 

It wasn’t much. If he had to think of a word to describe it, then it was an understanding, an agreement, to walk the same road with her and see where it went. To deal with their respective problems as they arose. Maybe it wouldn’t turn out. After all, they were different people with different interests and desires in life. What if she needed to leave Inaba for her family or her job? What if it became more than a job? And what if his situation changed? He didn’t plan on leaving Inaba, but he hadn’t planned on meeting Naoto, either, and he knew from the murder case to never rule anything out.

 

But still, despite the uncertainty of their situation, the fragile shoots of their friendship were spreading roots and anchoring more firmly for the potential of something more. Would it grow? He hoped so. But that was for another day. Today was progress. It was anticipation to see what the future held.

 

It was a start.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

****

**_February 9 th_ **

 

He didn’t know when it started – it didn’t feel like it mattered. But when she walked past, it was like his eyes were pulled to watch her. In the hallway between classes, by the front gate, and even when they met in town. And no one part of her caught his eye, but rather it felt like it was just _her_ whom he was drawn to, and it didn’t matter what she was doing, what she was wearing, or even what kind of a mood she was in – he always felt his heart kick up a few beats when she was around.

 

It was bad enough that he found her personality absolutely magnetic. He’d thought that was all he had to worry about, trying to talk to her while she was hanging out with Yukiko-san and laughing at a shared joke or when she was practicing her kicks down by the Samegawa. That would have been plenty to keep his attention on her, and he was content to watch as she passed him in the hallways or when they shared the sports field at school.

 

But then he started to notice something that his eyes found very enjoyable to watch – Satonaka Chie bounced as she walked. All her movements were tight and precise, always balanced and a cascade of muscle and motion from step to step, but in spite of the clear definition of fiber and tendon in her arms and back and stomach and legs (her legs were his favourite), there was an undeniable allure to them that he couldn’t pull away from. While other guys might have held Yukiko-san or Risette as the golden standard and argued that Satonaka Chie just couldn’t measure up in all the ways they did, he completely disagreed. Because she swayed as she strode by, bounced and jiggled under her tank tops and short shorts, and where she wasn’t hardened muscle, she was all flowing curves. Not in the traditional way, and he wasn’t sure she even knew how sexy she could be, but there was no denying that she was.

 

His homework and textbooks came to mind, and he didn’t know if it was stupid or hot that he knew all the parts of her that were so damn appealing. How her gastrocnemius twitched and flexed as she moved, up to her biceps which looked tougher than hardened tendon, but still soft and pliable and completely distracting when he thought of just how soft his hands would find them. And if her hamstrings were distracting, then he was lost every time he caught a glimpse of her glutes. Rounded and tense and perfectly shaped, so much so that always felt his face heat up just thinking about it. When he looked higher, her rhomboideus major was hard to miss as he watched her back, motions smooth as the muscles pulled easily and efficiently, so different from the other girls and even most of the guys. Even her triceps caught his eye. So much muscle, all toned and tuned to her will, and covered over with a fine layer of soft skin that probably smelled heavenly.

 

He sighed. _You’ve really got it bad._

 

And now, watching her on the far end of the gym was a sweet kind of torture by itself. Her loose gym shirt, the spats under her shorts, and the way her throat bobbed as she drank from her water bottle all teased him so much it hurt, but even the most mundane thing like the order of her wristbands (green and yellow on her left hand, green and red and grey on her right) were details that stood out to him. He’d always known that she had fans who never talked to her, but keeping his feet still was getting harder and harder. And that was crazy of him. He wanted to talk to her, to know her better, but he had no idea what to say.

 

“Hey Ichijo! What’d the coach say?”

 

Kou was brought back to the real world, to the Yasogami High School gym, by a teammate and the sound of the basketball not hitting the ground. His muscles snapped in place, but looked over at the team smoothly, not letting his clandestine glances and the abrupt return to reality faze him. “We’ll discuss it after we’re done today,” he told them, easy smile on his face. “If I tell you now, you’ll all ditch clean-up again.” There were some groans and half-hearted denials at that, but he shook his head and nodded toward the hoop. “No complaining. Keep drilling and maybe we’ll get out of here early.” They acceded to his words, for probably the third time all year, and got to it, and he turned to see if the object of his interest was still around. She was talking to Yukiko-san, heading for the door and laughing about something. She really did have a nice laugh.

 

He sighed and watched as she, and her marvelous glutes, left the gym. She was gone for half a minute before he turned away from the door and shook his head with an un-Kou-like growl. This was getting ridiculous, trailing after a girl and obsessing over her like a sex-starved otaku in those manga Kirigaya was always reading. She wasn’t a fantasy for him to ogle over, and she deserved more respect than him staring at her from around the corner just because he couldn’t string his words together when they talked. He needed to take some steps forward, and if he needed help to do it, then so be it.

 

Which brought him to Souji. He didn’t want to keep going back to the rising star of Inaba whom everyone hitched their wagon to, the guy whose name was on everyone’s lips and first in their thoughts when they thought of the word ‘capable.’ It wasn’t fair that the whole school went to him with their problems, and he knew that they did. Kanji-kun, the Detective Prince, Yosuke-kun, Satonaka-san and Yukiko-san and even Daisuke, though he’d be caught putting on makeup in the girls’ shower room before ever admitting it. Souji could have been rich if he charged for all the problems he solved and the advice he gave, and people kept going to him when they knew the guy was in town like he was Buddha.

 

But, much as Kou hated it, he needed some answers. This fixation was becoming a distraction and finals were coming up soon. Not just for his peace of mind, but when Yukiko-san absolutely glowed in class and through the hallways, talking about Souji and graduation and so clearly focused on the future, he couldn’t help but feel lonely in return. He loved his family, and his friends were some of the best things to happen to him. But he wanted more than that. He wanted to be that happy with someone else. To take those chances and win big in the end. Hell, he’d even heard rumours that Tatsumi Kanji and Shirogane Naoto were seeing each other. And this panic, this crippling fear, was really getting old.

 

He’d do it. For himself if for no other reason. He looked at the door where she’d left, let out a heavy breath, and swore to call Souji so he could put rubber to road and get some ideas. Then buy the guy the most expensive dishes on the Aiya menu.

 

\---

****

**_March 8 th_ **

 

There was an odd sense of disconnect running through Souji as he sat in his stiff chair and straightened his black and silver pinstripe blazer. In the Yasogami gym, floors polished and walls covered with sports banners and championships and well-wishes to the students on this auspicious day, smelling of incense and cleaner and the fabric of expensive suits and pressed shirts and formal kimonos as a breathing mass of humanity filled the building, he wasn’t where he expected to be. He thought he’d be up there with Yosuke and Kou and the others. Or seeing a sea of strangers in Kofu, sharing the stage with Megumi and Yoshiro. Instead he was watching all his friends graduate while he sat where he expected the two members of his family to be, taking the view of a spectator instead of a participant while Nanako, dressed up in a semi-formal pink and white dress with her hair arranged and tied back into two tails with pink ribbon, sat next to him. He’d promised to lift her up to see once the ceremonies got going, but for how many students and teachers were taking their time in the spotlight, despite how long the ceremony had gone on already, she was remarkably calm. He’d expected it, but he was still proud of her and rested one of his gloved hands on her shoulder. Even when he told her how long it was going to be, she insisted on seeing everyone, especially her Big Sis, on their big day. Souji could clearly remember Dojima’s smile when he heard her say that.

 

As odd and out of place as he felt, however, he wouldn’t have missed it for anything. And he figured that there wasn’t too much of a difference besides the vantage point – he was as stiff in his chair as Chie seemed to be under her kimono, so he wasn’t missing much as far as personal discomfort went. Of course, there was more to this feeling than just wearing sharp clothes and listening to speeches.

 

He thought about his correspondence courses and his friends back in Kofu with a bittersweet smile. He was missing out on his own graduation, after all, forgoing the ceremony to be in Inaba and opting to receive his diploma and academic awards, and there were a few of them, by mail rather than in person. So much effort and invested time, the end of twelve years of academic pursuits, and the greatest concern had become the price of postage. Souji let out a breath and pushed the thoughts aside. He’d called Rise the day before and caught up with the bubbly starlet. Telling her that he was graduating, even long distance, had set her squealing on a pitch he was sure only dolphins could hear. And Yoshiro and Megumi would be receiving their gifts soon, if they hadn’t already. Much as they would have made the day a blast, probably with a mandatory party that they would drag him to, this was where he belonged.

 

The speeches continued, so he looked up and down the rows to distract himself. He saw Kanji and Naoto one row ahead and several chairs to the right of his own seat, and couldn’t suppress a smile. If there was a more mismatched pair in the gym on account of height, he had yet to meet them. It was surprising how respectable Kanji looked when he tamed his hair and wore a sweater. The earrings made him look like yakuza instead of a street punk though. But there was a calm softness to him now that had been missing before, and Souji knew it had to do with the well-dressed and debonair detective at the delinquent’s side, hair longer and layered and remarkably feminine despite how much she’d groused about it before. Despite her longer hair and acceptance of Kanji and their fledgling relationship, she was dressed in her usual slacks and double-breasted coat, sitting tall and straight and quietly talking to him as the speakers on the stage switched. And Souji noted, with an amused smirk, that the two were holding hands. Sometimes they would separate when one or the other readjusted in their seat, but then Kanji’s hand would approach, slowly, and rest on Naoto’s dainty fingers. Then her hand would turn over and spread, meeting him palm to palm.

 

After all the calls and conversations, Souji was glad that they were moving forward. He didn’t know the details, and wasn’t about to push for them, but seeing them this comfortable together was very promising.

 

That drew up some memories, and he looked at the students on the stage as he thought of relationships. First he looked at Yukiko, striking in a red and green kimono and brushed hair and the earrings he’d sent her. She caught his gaze and smiled beautifully, nodding a little and sitting straight in her chair. They looked at each other, feeling the room and crowd fall away, until Souji heard a gruff throat clearing and saw Yukiko jolt a bit in her seat, blushing as she looked elsewhere in the crowd. Souji let his gaze shift over, feeling the hard glare from several rows ahead and keeping the smile off his face. Amagi Katsushiro. Of course. Souji nodded soberly to Yukiko’s father, and to Ryoko when she turned to see what the problem was, before looking at the stage again as though nothing was wrong.

 

Next to Yukiko was Yosuke, and Souji was impressed that his friend had done something with his hair. The usual spikes were combed down and, while not orderly, were certainly less wild than Souji was used to seeing. And he expected Yosuke to look bored or to fall asleep in his chair, especially when he’d heard of the intense last-minute study sessions his friend had put himself through. But Yosuke seemed, while not attentive, certainly alert and clear-headed. And when he saw Souji, he gave a subtle smile and salute when no one was looking, which Souji returned. He’d come a long way. Even from them beating each other unconscious by the Samegawa. That day a few weeks before final exams still burned in Souji’s memory, an indelible reminder of how proud he was of his friend.

 

Then there was Chie. She looked uncomfortable, shifting in place and fidgeting, but Souji realized that his initial assessment was off the mark. Sure, she was stiff from the chairs and her kimono, probably because she’d tied her _obi_ too tight again, but she was also holding in a mile-wide grin. Unlike Yosuke, who was confident that he would pass, Souji knew that Chie had stressed over the final exams, especially while also studying for the police entrance exam with Naoto. So that Chie was sitting there, having passed with a measure of grace, was an achievement for her that would keep her up for most of the night, and that was after her family stopped the celebrations.

 

Next in line was Kou, and seeing his friend on the stage, clean and well-cut in a formal suit and tie that he wore with a surprising amount of comfort, brought back memories of their conversation back before the finals were written. It made Souji sit back in his chair, still thoughtful and turning over what he’d heard then.

 

**_Flashback_ **

 

“So what’s up?” Yosuke asked Souji and Kou, leaning against the railing of Junes’s food court and stretching. He was dressed in his usual red pants and white coat, headphones around his neck like always, and Souji was sure he could hear Korean lyrics from where he stood. The sky above them was clear, the air was sharp with the chill of an unusually long winter, and the noise from the passing crowds ensured their privacy. Privacy that Kou clearly wanted, given how his arms were crossed in front of his body and his weight kept shifting from foot to foot.

 

“Kou wanted to talk to us about something,” Souji told his friend, tugging his jacket tighter around him and adjusting his gloves. “And it wasn’t something that we could do over the phone.”

 

Yosuke nodded and smiled as he waited. He and Kou had always gotten along, Souji noted, when they ran into each other or wound up in the same place at the same time. Both with a sharp sense of humour and a love for kicking back and having fun when they could, and they could both dish out the punishment and easily take it when the mood struck them. Souji just hoped that Yosuke took well what Kou wanted to say. “So what is it?” Yosuke asked.

 

“I’m thinking of asking Satonaka-san out,” Kou told them finally, speaking slowly like the words had to be dragged out, kicking and screaming every inch of the way. “Not as a friend, either. It’s been on my mind for a long time, and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

 

Souji took a deep breath that chilled his lungs and stung his throat and threaded his fingers together while looking at Yosuke. Who, in turn, smiled and looked a bit confused. “Uh, okay. I don’t know why you came to tell me that, but I wish you luck. Chie’s tough to figure out sometimes, but with Souji here, that shouldn’t be a problem. And I can give you a hand if you need it.”

 

Souji stared at his friend, eyes widening a little in surprise. Kou looked dumbfounded and off balance. “So there’s no problem?” the blue-haired classmate asked after a few heavy moments.

 

Yosuke’s expression shifted then, from surprise and curiousity to contemplation. A dry smirk slowly crawled across his lips. “We’re not going out or anything.” He looked up at Souji, an inquiring tilt to his head. “Was that why you called us together? To make sure none of us were stepping on any toes?”

 

“I didn’t know what the situation was,” Souji admitted, keeping the surprise out of his voice, but not the inquisitiveness. “I never knew what to make of you and her, and until now it wasn’t my business to pry. Sometimes it seemed like there was something there, and other times, well, I couldn’t tell.”

 

“You’re not interested in her?” Kou asked, the tension gone from his body.

 

Yosuke sighed and checked his watch before turning around and leaning over the railings. Souji and Kou came closer to hear him when he spoke. “It’s not that simple. I mean, it is, but not in the way you think. I’ve heard the rumours around school; would have to’ve been deaf not to. They even had a betting pool on when we were going to hook up, if you can believe that.” Yosuke’s gaze shifted over to Souji, a knowing little smile to his face. “And I’ve thought about it a few times. Chie’s loyal, she’s good-looking, and you couldn’t ask for a better friend. Especially after everything that happened with the murders and Yukiko-san going missing that time.” He sighed and turned back to Kou, a sober look in his eyes. “But that’s all we are: friends. There’s no spark. No fire. And throwing the dice on our friendship for something that’s not even there, well, it’s not worth what it would do to our team. I don’t know where it would go or even where to start on something like that, even if I wanted to. And if things didn’t work out, well, ‘awkward’ wouldn’t begin to cover it. Especially if everyone else got involved, you know?”

 

“It’s easy to say that we could work past it if something like that happened,” Souji replied calmly. “But that’s a good point. There’s no telling how everyone would actually react. I’ve known couples who were pulled apart because their friends were having a rough break-up. It’s strange to think that there’s nothing there, though. You two always get on each other’s nerves.”

 

Yosuke snorted and rolled his eyes. “That’s because she spends my money and gets me to buy her food all the time. And uses me for punching practice when she gets pissed off. That’d get on anyone’s nerves.”

 

A light smile spread across Souji’s lips, mirth dancing in his voice. “Right, but sometimes it’s more than that. Most romantic TV shows and manga involve the couple always bickering over things. Opposites attract, sexual tension and suppressed feelings in the form of fights and arguments. It’s not too far-fetched when you look at the science behind it and dig beneath the surface, and you two have known each other for a while.”

 

Yosuke gave another snort, but wore a similar smile. “Yeah, I know. I’ve seen some of those shows too. But sometimes there isn’t anything deeper to it, and those people genuinely get on each other’s nerves. I mean, could you imagine the noise if we got together? We’d never stop fighting. Not to mention that being her boyfriend would give her a free ticket to kick my ass.”

 

“I always thought you two had something going on,” Kou admitted. “It seems like you know each other pretty well, and that’s a pretty good foundation for a relationship when you think about it.”

 

“It’s not that. Like I said, we’re friends.” Yosuke’s smile turned crooked when he looked at Kou and raised an eyebrow. “And you ever hurt her, I’ll hunt you down and make you regret it. And that’s before the others get you.” Kou paled a bit as the list of Chie’s friends came to mind. And it was indeed a long one. Then Yosuke’s smile normalized with a chuckle. “But seriously, we’re not going out. I don’t think it’s ever come up before, so you’ve got nothing to worry about from me. As far as I know, she’s available.”

 

Kou gave a polite bow. “Thanks for the information.” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “I guess this must have come from nowhere. Sorry about that.”

 

Yosuke shrugged with a grin and waved his concerns off. “Hey, I wish you luck, and if you want to know something about her, I’ll give you a hand.” His grin turned evil in a half-second. “Especially the embarrassing stuff. I’ll tell you that for free.”

 

Souji chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll help with the normal stuff when and where I can. It’s probably not going to be easy, but you do seem pretty serious about this.”

 

Kou nodded in response, feeling the tension ease out of his shoulders at the show of support. “Thank you.”

 

Yosuke shrugged and looked around to make sure they were alone. There were plenty of parents and purchasers and passersby around them, but none gave them a second look. “It’s not a problem. You didn’t hear this from me, but she deserves a happy ending. I know she’s always been compared to Yukiko-san by the guys in class, so you’re going to have to get around those issues, if she still has any. And not just that, but she’s anything but normal as far as her personal habits go.” Yosuke held up his hand and started counting them off. “She’s hardcore into martial arts, big on exercise and working out, gets into fights with people when she’s got a point to make, and she eats more meat than any three students in our grade. I’m not kidding: calling her a carnivore doesn’t come close.”

 

“I’ve heard rumours about that,” Kou replied with a chuckle. “But they’re exaggerated, right?”

 

“Chie’s one of the four people in Inaba who can beat the Aiya Rainy Day Challenge,” Souji told him seriously. “And she orders the all-meat bowl every time we eat there. Last time I tried that, I felt like I had a tire sitting in my stomach for two days. It’s not an exaggeration, what you’ve heard about her, and as close of a friend as she is, her fixation on meat dishes borders on a culinary obsession.”

 

“If you’re good at cooking great steak dinners, you’d have an in right there,” Yosuke offered with a bright, wry grin, leaning against the rail and tilting his head back. “Still interested?” he asked as he raised his eyebrows appraisingly, adjusting his tunes and drumming his fingers to the beat.

 

Kou nodded immediately, though they had given him more to think about. They weren’t lying –  he could see and hear that much – but if that were the case, where did Satonaka-san store all that food? She wasn’t that big a girl. “Yeah. It won’t be simple or easy, it seems, but it’s worth a try.”

 

Souji gave a relieved smile, and Yosuke laughed delightedly. “Good man. Not afraid of a challenge. If you do pull it off, we’ll have to welcome you into the family. It’s been a while since we had a new member.”

 

“I’m not sure if I can handle that yet,” Kou admitted with a shrug and a growing smile. “Your group is pretty unique, and I don’t know where I would fit in.”

 

Yosuke brushed his concerns off with a wave of his hand. “Ah, no worries. You’ll do fine. Especially if you can make this thing happen with Chie – that’ll be impressive all by itself.”

 

Souji looked toward the food counter. After such a heavy discussion, some food was definitely in order. And Teddie would never let him hear the end of it if he didn’t say ‘hello’ while he was here. When he looked back at his classmates, he gave a small smile and nodded once to the hopeful Ichijo Kou. “Good luck.”

 

The basketball captain blinked once before returning the gesture and easing into a familiar, comfortable stance. Like he was ready to take on whatever came his way, however he had to. “Thanks.”

 

**_End Flashback_ **

 

After the speeches concluded with a well-done rendition of Auld Lang Syne, led by Ayane in the school band and carried in tune by Nanako at his side, the student procession made their way from the gym. Souji lifted Nanako up to see it despite her protests that she wasn’t a kid anymore, and the gym dissolved into a growing hive of chatter and noise once the students were gone. Well-wishes were given from one family to the next and greetings were shouted across rows as discussions rose in ebbs and tides around them.

 

“Let’s go see Yukiko and the others, alright?” he told her, leaning down so she could hear him.

 

“Okay. Let’s see Naoto-san and Kanji-san before we go. Can they come with us?”

 

“Sure.”

 

The pair were only too happy to see Souji and Nanako, and together they swiftly made their way from the crowd when there was an opening. Nanako reached up and took Kanji’s hand and tugged him toward the stairs at the lobby, immediately talking about her latest art project in school. Naoto looked around the younger student and smiled when she heard his responses, watching the conversation with a smile. When she saw Souji doing the same and giving her a knowing smile, a light touch of pink dusted her cheeks and she quickly looked forward.

 

Souji chuckled and soaked in the ambiance of the school, glad to be back, and let Naoto make what assumptions she wished. The four climbed the stairs and worked past students and their families as they kept up their silence or discussion the whole way up.

 

The class where the senpai of the investigation team had spent their final high school year was decorated with streamers and banners and well-wishes hanging by the windows. Girls in their kimonos gathered in groups for photos while others went around to have their yearbook signed. Some were telling stories and laughing over old memories, perched by the teacher’s podium, and the guys on the sports teams regaled anyone who would listen on how the season went, and in the middle of that crowd were Kou and Daisuke. Souji leaned against the wall while the other three explored the room and took everything in, feeling nostalgia wrap around him like the arms of an old friend. His mind would have continued on that train of thought, on all the good and bad memories, if not for the familiar scent of black tea and light perfume that tugged his attention to his right. Square onto Yukiko in all her formal glory.

 

“Thank you for being here,” she whispered as she leaned against the wall next to him.

 

“Of course,” he replied with a lopsided smile. “I couldn’t miss being here for the other most important lady in my life, could I?”

 

Yukiko looked surprised until he nodded to the side, indicating his cousin, and she chuckled. “Of course.”

 

“Happy graduation, Big Sis!” Nanako told her once there was an opening, giving a polite bow and smiling as wide as a Jack O’ Lantern when she looked up. “And thanks for the invitation – it was a lot of fun.”

 

“Of course, Nanako-chan,” Yukiko told her, brushing her hair back and giving a nod that sent her earrings swinging back and forth. “You had to be here – you’re part of the family.” That drew a precious giggle out of the girl and smiles from the students and parents and teachers around her. Even those who only knew Nanako by reputation were taken with her calm innocence and mature poise. And that didn’t change as the girl made her way through the room; to Yosuke, who gave her a smile and half a salute; to Chie, who knelt down to her with a wink and a “Thanks,” before giving the girl a hug; even to Kou and Daisuke, who were thrilled by her attention and immediately started talking to her. Souji glanced up and saw Ai looking on with a small, concealed smile which became a look of surprise when his cousin went up to her and politely introduced herself with “Big Bro says you’re his friend too. Congratulations.” He had to turn to keep from laughing at Ai’s flustered and touched and soft expressions, uncharacteristically stumbling between thanks and her own introduction. Even Katsushiro and Ryoko, speaking to one of the teachers by the other door, took a moment to watch the girl with gentle smiles.

 

“Belle of the ball,” he commented as Yukiko watched with him. “I’ll have to make sure no one wants to take her home.”

 

“She has come a long way,” Yukiko replied before turning to him, eyes lighting up at his black and silver pinstripe suit, starched shirt and dark tie. He’d even polished his shoes and cleaned his full-finger gloves, and he wore it all with poise. “You look very handsome, by the way.” She reached up and adjusted his tie a little, a soft look to her face. “I’ve never seen you wear this suit before.”

 

“Something I picked up before I came back,” he told her. “Rise wanted to go clothes shopping again, so I took the time to update my wardrobe. First impressions are lasting ones, right?”

 

“Of course,” she smiled, turning in place and wrapping her arm around his. “And you wear it very well.”

 

“I’ve had a while to get used to it,” he replied with a shrug before looking over and nodding to her academic awards. “Congratulations,” he told her, stepping forward and softly kissing her on the cheek while ignoring her father’s low grunt, stealing a moment to take in a long breath of her perfume. “That choice suits you,” he murmured as he pulled back, catching her eyes for a moment. Then he reached into his breast pocket and held out a long jewelry box. “This is a little something to commemorate the day. Nanako helped me pick out the design.”

 

She smiled brightly and reached for the box, carefully opening it. She gave a little gasp when she saw what rested inside before reaching out and lifting it on her fingers. It was a pendent in the shape of an _ema_ , about two inches across on a silver chain, with _tsubasa_ scribed on one side and _yuuki_ on the other, both in classic kanji. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, rotating it in the light to get a closer look before giving him a smile and a raised eyebrow. “Taking liberties with my name, are you?”

 

Souji chuckled and shook his head, threading his fingers together and looking around before giving a serious look. “It suits you,” he told her frankly. “It took me a while to come up with the inscriptions, but you’ve come a long way from when I moved here.” His voice lowered as he leaned toward her, low and intimate. “You’re not in that birdcage anymore. Your wings aren’t broken and you’ve got nothing holding you back. You can take to the skies and go wherever you please, and I’ll be there with you no matter what.” He locked eyes with her and smiled, their contact creating a pocket of the room just for them. “Congratulations, Yukiko.”

 

She blushed at his words and gave him a lopsided smile before leaning forward and kissing him softly on the lips, holding still at the contact. Not pushing for more or pulling back, just resting against him, gracing him with the soft warmth of her lips and the slightly waxy feel of her lipstick. He rested his hands on her shoulders and slowly pulled back after a few moments before he pulled her into a close hug. She returned the gesture as the smell of her hair filled his mind. “Thank you,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

 

“Anything. You know that,” he replied, tightening his arms.

 

His eyebrows furrowed a little when she giggled against him. “That was a nice little speech,” she remarked. “How long did it take you to come up with it? Or did you not need books and Takenaka-san’s advice this time?”

 

“How rude,” he rebuked her lightly. “I don’t always have a hard time finding things to say, you know.”

 

“Of course not,” she agreed far too easily. “So how long?”

 

“I’ll never tell.”

 

“Well, I’ll get it out of you later,” she promised. Looking around the room, it seemed that their displays of affection had gone mostly unnoticed. Ryoko and Katsuhiro had left with the teacher they’d been talking to before, and the others were chatting with Nanako. There was a group of girls, however, who were grinning and waving at Yukiko, giving her suggestive looks. The heiress shook her head and turned back to Souji, still blushing a little. When their eyes met again, however, she stepped back and pulled a jewelry box similar to the one he’d given her from her kimono sleeve and handing it to him. “I got you something as well. I know you couldn’t be with your friends and Rise-chan back in Kofu, so this is your graduation too. We all got gifts, and you shouldn’t be left out in this case.”

 

He took the offered box with a grateful nod and a touched smile. “I hope, for the sake of variety, that you didn’t have the same idea I did,” he told her with a small grin.

 

The only hint he got was a calm little smile. “Take a look.”

 

He did as she bid, and whistled in surprise when he saw the necklace and pendent that lay inside. They were definitely custom-made; Rise had dragged him through enough jewelry stores that he knew the metalwork was exceptional. Thin braided metal chains with a clasp at one end and the hook 4/5s of the way down the length immediately caught his eye. He wasn’t sure if they were silver, polished steel, or something else, but the metalwork was both delicate and distinct, and looked like it would take a lot to break. Fragile yet strong, like a sword’s edge. On the end of the chain rested a solid silver hexagram with three horizontal bars formed from dark iron. Simple and understated, but Souji recognized it immediately – the provincial crest of the Inaba province from back in the days of the Meiji Restoration and the end of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Any history buff would have recognized it.

 

If his amateur knowledge of jewelry was anywhere near the mark, it had to be worth a small fortune for the fine craftsmanship alone. Ripples in the steel of the chains, the sturdy but subtle clasp, it all felt like a labour of love rather than an obligatory commission, and he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

 

“Daidara-san offered to make it once we got a design in mind,” Yukiko told him as he kept looking at it. “Kanji-kun helped with that part. Yosuke-kun came up with the clasp outline, and we all pitched in to pay for it. Those two, Chie, Naoto-kun and Teddy, we all wanted something that would suit you, that you couldn’t find anywhere else.” She looked up and smiled when she noted how fixated he was on it. “Seems like it was the right choice.”

 

“It’s perfect,” he told her finally. It really did feel like the whole group had pitched in on the project, especially since few people knew about his long-time fascination with all facets of Japanese history, from the many different wars to the myths and local legends of Kanto and Kansai. He’d only told Yukiko about the different stories he’d collected, and Nanako and the others had found out by accident at some point or another, but the provincial crest gleaming brightly in the light from the windows showed that they hadn’t forgotten.

 

Yukiko slipped a bit closer and lowered her voice, resting her hands on his forearms. “I wanted it to be something from here. And there was one other reason, I suppose.”

 

He pulled his eyes up to meet hers, so dark and serious. “And that is?”

 

“It’s so you don’t forget about this place,” she told him seriously. “I know that’s a silly reason, but you’ve been all over the country, and I want you to know that, no matter where you end up, you’ll always have a home here.”

 

Souji stared at her for a moment, placing the jewelry box on the nearby desk and arching an eyebrow. “With you?” he asked, neutral in tone and stance.

 

“Of course.”

 

There was no helping it. She looked so serious, so earnest and loving, that he wanted to kiss her senseless. That they were in the middle of the school was irrelevant. Her parents being just around the corner didn’t matter. Nothing was holding him back and damn the consequences. He stepped forward, touched a hand to her chin so he could see her face, lovely and lightly made up for the day, and leaned forward.

 

“Big Bro! Big Sis! We’re taking pictures now!”

 

And froze the moment he heard Nanako’s voice. Yukiko blinked owlishly, pulled out of the moment at the same time, and they both looked back to see Nanako surrounded by their friends. Souji wanted to be annoyed at the interruption, yet again, but he couldn’t hold onto the feeling when he saw her smile. With a sigh and a low murmur to his girlfriend, “Her face is going to stay that way if she keeps smiling so much,” he turned toward the group while resting a hand on Yukiko’s far hip.

 

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” she insisted through her light giggles, but the look she gave told him that she understood: Their private time was over, and they joined the others in congratulations and reminiscing. Yukiko and Nanako spoke to Naoto in quiet tones that Souji had long since learned meant ‘no men allowed,’ so he nodded at Yosuke before walking over to join him by the windows.

 

“Hell of a day, huh?” Souji’s second-in-command asked, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the window frame.

 

“It hasn’t sunk in yet. I still feel like I should be studying.”

 

Yosuke chuckled, giving his friend an arch look. “You’re going for university right away, aren’t you? Seems crazy to go from finals into prepping for another god-awful exam.”

 

“You’re no different,” Souji pointed out. “Last I heard, you had a few schools you were going to apply to. Has that changed?”

 

His answer came in the shake of Yosuke’s head. “No, I still am, but I get the feeling that you’re going somewhere high-class where only the best of Japan’s top 1% are allowed or something. Same as Yukiko-san – I don’t see her going to some backwater community college.”

 

Souji couldn’t deny those points, especially since his test itinerary for the different institutions he was applying to had just arrived in the mail, so he changed the subject. “Did Teddie tell you what his new goals are?”

 

Yosuke’s smile disappeared behind an exasperated sigh. “Man, I was trying to forget. Nothing wrong with him wanting to do something here, and it beats him staying at my place and working as the Junes mascot forever, but a teacher? How is that going to work?”

 

Teddie had interrupted their group study session a few weeks before finals and completely derailed their efforts for an hour by announcing that he wanted to do his part in helping people become more lively and not fall prey to their Shadows, to fight against the fog and apathy that Izanami talked about. And he wanted to do that by ‘guiding the future generations from their stale, boring lives, and giving them all a taste of Teddie’s love.’ The silence that followed his announcement rivaled that of a morgue at midnight.

 

“Considering how nuts all the other faculty are, he might just fit in,” Souji pointed out. “And I’m glad that he’s got a goal in mind – I was afraid he was going to ask to team up with Rise and get into showbiz.”

 

“That might’ve been a better place for him, now that you mention it. I mean, he can do his own special effects, and he’d be perfect in front of a camera.”

 

Souji chuckled. “Probably, but I don’t think he’s suited for the politics. Even if Rise took him under her wing, he would cause a lot of waves. Being a teacher’s less of a minefield by comparison, so long as he keeps his hands to himself.”

 

Yosuke glanced at him for a few moments before letting out a sigh and shaking his head. “I guess it’s his decision. And whatever happens happens, right?”

 

“That’s right. If nothing else it’ll be pretty fun to watch, don’t you think?”

 

“It really will, now that you mention it.” Yosuke frowned a bit, then gave a weary sigh. “But now I’m worried about the next generation of students getting suspended because they won’t stop talking about scoring with the senior students, or him running one of those art classes that takes up an entire wall of the school and somehow looks like us in the TV.”

 

Souji laughed; that did make for a good mental image. “We’ll have a talk with him before it comes to that. I hear the teacher’s exams are pretty stringent, and– what’s up?” Yosuke was looking past a group of students with a thoughtful set to his face, and when Souji leaned closer and followed his friend’s gaze he saw Kou approaching Chie, threading his fingers together and breathing steadily. Standing tall and smiling like always, he would have looked confident and capable if he didn’t look so pale.

 

“Think that’ll work out?” Yosuke asked quietly as they turned to keep from being caught staring. “He’s not the sort to give up when there’s something he wants, but he’s had a tough time talking to her since forever. Everyone’s heard about it by now. That’s gonna take a while to break.”

 

“It’s too early to tell,” Souji murmured back. “And if Chie’s going to university, there might not be a lot of time for them to get to know each other.”

 

“That didn’t stop you and Yukiko-san,” Yosuke pointed out.

 

Souji glanced over steadily. “That’s different. I hope they get to that point, but long-distance relationships are hard. Different people and priorities, finding the time to talk, common interests, there’s nothing easy about it.”

 

“I get that,” Yosuke assured his friend with an upraised hand, “but I get this feeling that Kou won’t be that easily brushed aside. Once he gets used to talking to Chie, he’ll find his groove and keep at it.”

 

“We’ll see,” Souji murmured. “I don’t doubt him, but life gets in the way of things like that, and tends to be very good at throwing in problems where there weren’t any before.”

 

He was about to go deeper on the subject when Nanako came up and told him that it was his turn to have pictures taken. The determined look on her face was enough to convince him, but when he looked past her, he noted that there was quite a queue waiting for them. Yosuke slipped away and cuffed him on the shoulder in passing, so Souji followed Nanako to where Yukiko and the camera awaited. As he made his way over, he glanced over at the pair he and Yosuke were talking about earlier and smiled. Chie looked surprised, but kept up her end of the conversation, and Kou only tripped over himself a few times in talking to her. It was a good start, and in spite of the doubts that circled Souji’s mind like water down a drain, they would hardly have been the oddest couple in their group. Naoto and Kanji were talking to Yosuke and Daisuke, still standing close together though they weren’t holding hands. In spite of everything that had gotten in the way and all the reasons they shouldn’t have worked, this was the third time he’d seen them spending time together since Naoto visited his house. They broke the expectations and violated the rules and looked genuinely happy in spite of all the agonizing they’d gone through to get this far.

 

Their odd little family never did things by the numbers, after all. Souji was getting a familiar tingling sensation around the scars on his hand when he looked at Chie and Kou, and gave them a passing smile before chuckling into his hand.

 

He couldn’t wait to see if they could beat the odds again.

 

\---

****

**_March 19th_ **

 

It was funny how small changes in her life could alter how she thought on a larger scale. Before she got to know Souji, Yukiko was sure that everyone could see how hollow her smiles were. Her burdens at home, her indecision, it all felt like it ate her away inside until she became transparent, an open book of shameful secrets and mortifying personal truths that she couldn’t stand yet couldn’t stop. Since then, since that day at the shrine and that night under the fireworks, her smiles had grown more robust. She laughed and giggled with her friends, was happy to look in the mirror and see the cheerful and charming girl staring back, and now when she touched the pendant that her beloved boyfriend had given her, the smiles were automatic and stemmed from the warmth in her chest that they inspired.

 

But sincere as the smiles were, they didn’t last, even with the memories so close at hand. She groaned and leaned back in her chair until she felt her vertebrae pop. If she thought that looking after the Inn was time-consuming before, it became downright onerous when she was trying to study for the Kyoto University entrance exams. She ate her meals with her books, studied when she had a few free minutes, and was even reciting history and chemical equations in the shower. Nothing she’d studied for before had been this intense, and she knew she had to pace herself or risk burning out.

 

Souji was in the same boat, focusing on studying and online research for his own tests, so the time they had available was sweet and brief. That said, he had designated a weekend in June as theirs, set it aside for them to have some time to themselves. And Nanako-chan and Dojima were spending some father/daughter time together and would be out of the house. A dreamy little smile spread across her lips and she stroked her pendant again; she and Souji already had plans for their absence.

 

The finer details of those plans were interrupted when her phone rang, jolting her in her chair. The ringtone was the theme song of _Trial of the Dragon_ , which meant Chie. “Hello?” she answered on the third ring, digging past all the study books on her desk in her room.

 

“Hey, it’s me. Have you got a few minutes?”

 

Chie’s voice was friendly, but distinctly thoughtful with the words coming out slowly. Operating on habits born from years of experience, Yukiko rose from her chair, went across her room, and sat back against her favourite couch, soft as kisses and with enough give that she’d fallen asleep against it more than once. “Of course. Is something wrong?”

 

There was a long pause after the reply, so much so that Yukiko checked the phone to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected. “No,” Chie replied finally, “it’s… not wrong, really, it’s just more… unusual. Or weird, I guess.”

 

Yukiko let out a steadying breath, putting aside her mental calculations and recitation for a moment. “What do you mean?”

 

“It’s about Ichijo. We started talking at graduation, got to know each other, made some plans, and now we’ve been… I guess you’d call it spending time together. Having lunch, talking about stuff, things like that.”

 

That didn’t surprise her. “That’s good though, right? It means you’re getting along better than before. And Kou-kun is very polite, and a close friend.”

 

There was a long pause on the other side, and it was only the sound of the music in the background that told Yukiko that the line hadn’t gone dead. “Well, it’s…” Chie began finally. Yukiko could picture her best friend, working the words around like chewing on a mouth-sized piece of toffee. “It’s more than that. It’s like he’s been setting time aside for when we get together. And I know that sounds wrong, but I feel like he’s dropping everything for when we can hang out. He takes it pretty seriously.”

 

Souji had told her about the conversation between the three at Junes those months ago, and told her to be careful with her words. That was no problem for Yukiko; she’d been keeping a few notes in mind for just such an occasion. “Is that a bad thing? It means you can spend more time together, doesn’t it?”

 

The reply was slow, though not as much as before. “Right, it does. But why? Why me, and why now? Sure, he’s a pretty good friend, but…”

 

“That’s a start, isn’t it?”

 

“That’s the problem,” Chie almost whined, a sound that would have kept Yosuke teasing her for weeks if he’d ever heard it. “A good start to what? This is getting weird, but not in a bad way, and that just means… when did he get the idea to try taking me out on dates?”

 

Yukiko let that idea roll around her head for a moment before choosing her words like it was the last round in a game of Scrabble. “It’s possible he’s taking those first steps toward asking you out, you know. Kou-kun always seemed nervous when we talked to him,” she pointed out. “I don’t think it was me he had a hard time talking to, so maybe he wants to change that.”

 

There was a long pause as the words hit the mark, and it was clear Chie made the connection that Yukiko was aiming for. The martial artist let out an exasperated breath, followed by a _thunk_ as she bounced on her mattress. “What am I supposed to do? This is totally messed up.”

 

Yukiko smiled happily, welcoming the distraction and glad for her friend. She hadn’t expected it to be Kou-kun who pursued her, but this was long overdue. “I think it’s cute. If he has been taking you out, and if he’s being that serious, then it means he’s trying to get to know you better.”

 

There was a rustling on the line as Chie shook her head and moved back and forth against her blankets. “That’s the thing. He’s the head of the basketball team, on the school honour roll, and the son of one of the richest families in the area. You know how many girls attend games and practices just for him?”

 

“I don’t think it’s all of them, but Souji’s said it’s quite a few.”

 

“Right. So he’s A-grade material. If it makes sense for him to hook up with anyone, it’d be Ebihara. She’s rich and good looking. Or you, if Souji hadn’t come here. Some kind of an arranged marriage or something.”

 

That stifled Yukiko’s smile for a moment, but not for long. Perhaps that would have been possible before, but now the idea felt ludicrous. “Kou-kun and I are friends, but our parents aren’t that close.”

 

“But it could have happened,” Chie insisted. “The point is, he’s got all these things going for him. Why did he get nervous around me before?”

 

Yukiko chuckled then, thinking of Kanji-kun and Naoto-kun and all their shared insecurities, circling each other but not getting close like the same poles of two magnets. But those two had changed enough to connect. “People are attracted to whom they are, Chie. It might not make sense, but I don’t think it needs to. If you like him, then there’s nothing wrong. And he seems to like you, and has for a while.”

 

The line was silent after Yukiko finished talking, and the silence was broken by a long, tired sigh. “This is way too much for me right now. And the timing’s terrible.” That was probably the closest Satonaka Chie had ever come to whining.

 

“Then pace yourself,” Yukiko suggested. “There’s no need to run into this, especially if you’re not sure about it.”

 

“It’s not that,” Chie protested quietly. “It’s… I mean, he’s great to be around, he’s funny once he gets going, and he’s not pushy or obnoxious or a self-centred jerk like the other guys at school. And it’s flattering that he’s spending time with me. But where do I go from here? What should I do? Leading him along isn’t fair, and I don’t even know if that’s what he wants.”

 

“What about you? Let’s say he is trying to date you; what do you think about him?”

 

There was another long pause on the line. “It feels like he cares when we’re together,” was her answer. “And it’s nice to have someone to talk to, to work with when it comes to these things. It seems like he’s happy when we hang out, even when we’re not doing anything special, and it’s pretty fun. But it’s not romance or love or anything.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be, though,” Yukiko assured her, looking up to her ceiling. “Would it be so bad if you were just friends first? That’s the best foundation to start from, I think.”

 

“Starting from, sure, but where is it going?

 

 Yukiko didn’t have an answer, so she gave a wordless ‘I don’t know’ in reply, accompanied only by her friend’s uneven breathing.

 

“This is messed up,” Chie murmured finally in a toneless sigh.

 

There was only one thing Yukiko could say. “Give it time, Chie. I think that’s your best choice right now. But these things have ways of working themselves out. One way or another.”

 

\---

****

**_April 12th_ **

 

She never used the mountains or exercise to run from her problems. Work through them, she told herself. Never run from them. Deal with them or kick them until they go away, then move on. It had kept her going during the investigation, through all the ups and downs of Nanako-chan’s abduction and when they decided Namatame’s fate in the hospital, and it hadn’t changed since.

 

But now she was running. Pushing, and straining, and gritting her teeth, trying to get away, to drown the words out with the screaming of her body. She’d already gone four miles further than her hardest run ever, and it didn’t matter. She was straining harder than she had since they’d beaten Izanami, so soaked in sweat that she would have been dryer if it was raining. It didn’t matter; nothing stopped the words, those damned words, from echoing in her ears.

 

_Satonaka Chie. We appreciate your application to the Inaba police force. But such a career, and it is a lifetime career, takes more than an understanding of the physical nature of the job. Your results on the entrance exam simply will not suffice, thus we cannot accept you at this time. Should you wish to apply again, however, you can…_

She’d gotten the letter a few days after the hardest written test of her life. Never mind high school tests and finals, what the police threw at her was like trying to trying to give the Great Wall of China a piggyback ride. She was beyond unprepared for it, and all her expectations, all her buffers against failure, were on a smoking heap at her shoes right now.

 

Pulling to a stop, she let her ragged breathing torture her lungs and tried to stop the shaking in her legs. The mountain path, snapped twigs and hard dirt, flickered in and out of sight from the colour bubbles that grew and popped across her eyes. Crouching didn’t help – the pressure in her head and eyes grew from increased blood flow and made her dizzy. She ran the back of her hand across her forehead and face, trying to clean off the sweat, but her wristbands were so saturated already that she just squeezed more sweat onto her skin, sending it running down in rivulets.

 

Breathing hurt, her whole body was in agony, and she could feel where she’d pushed her muscles too far, past the point of pain and straight into numbness and she knew she’d be feeling it for a week. But when she heard someone’s breathing from up ahead, her head snapped up. Without thinking she dropped into a fighting stance , glaring at the source of the sound.

 

Only to have the fight leave her when she saw a familiar mop of blue hair and concerned eyes set against a handsome, fine-boned face and narrow nose. There was no judgment on those eyes, no disgust at seeing a girl so filthy and sweaty, and that was the first reason she didn’t look away when she saw him. He knew her, and knew what she was like. If this bothered him, then there wasn’t much else to say.

 

Because the second reason was that she was past the point of caring.

 

“Here.” Ichijo Kou, dressed in a t-shirt and track shorts, tossed her a dry towel and a full, cold water bottle.

 

Chie stepped forward and snagged the first item, whipping it up and around the back of her neck. The second she bent at the waist to catch with two fingers, bring it up to her mouth to take a long draw from before squirting it across her face. The chill water felt like the hand of a merciful goddess running across her face, and for a moment she could break away from her problems and just enjoy this simple sensation. Then she wiped her face down and looked at Kou, and the concern he showed brought her back to the world. “Thanks,” she told him quietly, stepping off the trail and resting on a root while the adrenaline in her veins thinned out. It didn’t stop her heart from beating harder, though. Kou always had that effect on her, and all he was doing now was slowly walking toward her.

 

“I got a call from Souji earlier,” he told her, stopping near a tree seven feet away with his arms loosely folded at the chest. “He said you could use a friend right now, and he couldn’t make it himself.”

 

Chie let out a chuckle laced with strained breathing. Right. Souji and Dojima-san had taken Nanako-chan on a family vacation, capitalizing on one of the few times the detective could leave the house for more than work. “Right. Well, I guess that’s right. Probably.”

 

There was hesitation in his eyes, and he was choosing his words carefully. “You don’t sound very sure.”

 

“I’m not,” she admitted with another empty, rattling laugh. She didn’t want to throw her problems at him, but there was no denying that they were there. And she wasn’t going to lie to him just to save face. “I can’t remember the last few days, and haven’t been home since… This morning. I think. Too wired. Too tired.” She heaved a heavy sigh and straightened up to address him. “Not sure what to call it. No idea where I’d start, either.”

 

His eyes were straight and level, so nothing she’d said fazed him. That was a good start. “Are you alright? Aside from the obvious, I mean.”

 

“Aside from failing the test?” That word echoed over and over in her head, burning into her retinas like it was painted on the ground, the trees, on him, everywhere she looked. “Aside from that and everything I’ve done for the last six months going down the pipes, yeah, I’m fine.” She wanted to say it was a learning experience, something that would prepare her for the next time. But failing so spectacularly was hard to feel good about. Like looking at the bright side of falling out of a burning seven-storey apartment building and suffering from third-degree burns and thirty-four broken bones.

 

Kou brought her out of her macabre comparisons by walking up to her and catching her eyes with his, sober yet smiling. “Well, maybe I can help. Souji gave me some ideas, and I think I could give you a hand in studying for the exam if you plan on taking it again. You can take the test at another time, right?”

 

She shook her head. It was nice, him offering like that, but best he know what he was getting into. “It’s not that simple. I studied with Yukiko and Naoto for that test, tried everything I could, everything they knew, to get that far, and I wasn’t even close.” She let out a harsh breath. That helpless feeling, staring at the exam pages and not having the faintest clue, invaded her thoughts, and she growled against it.

 

He held out a hand while placing the other on his hip, head cocked to the side. “Well, you can start with the things you know you got wrong. There had to have been things you were prepared for, after all.”

 

Chie flexed her hands, cracking her knuckles and feeling her mind calm down a little. He’d come all this way to help her, and that counted for something. “Right, but the exams change every time, and they won’t be holding another one until next year, at the earliest. Now I don’t know if I should study for the university entrance exams, or try the police exam again next year.”

 

“You could do both,” Kou suggested. “Supplementary university courses could help you when you take the test again. And I’ve heard that officers with a post-secondary education are considered for promotions sooner than those without it.”

 

“Right,” she replied shortly, looking to the side and letting out a long, tired breath.

 

He sighed and scratched his cheek with a forefinger. “Sorry. I’m throwing all this stuff at you, but you’ve probably had a rough few days, haven’t you?”

 

“I’m fine,” she replied, wiping at her brow with his towel. And it had to be his towel, she realized, because it smelled like he did. Crisp mountain air and fresh, icy water, and his presence was all that kept her from breathing it in more heavily. “Just pissed off at myself.” Kou raised his eyebrows at her language, but she was too focused on getting the problems off her chest to give any thought to what he thought of girls who swore. “I mean, I should’ve known that I was pushing things too hard. High school finals, graduation, all this other stuff. It makes sense that I wouldn’t be at my best when I went for the exam. I was the only one anywhere near my age there, and that should have told me something.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Feels like a waste now.”

 

“Do you really think that?”

 

Chie snorted a chuckle, cocking an eyebrow and pointing her hand to him. It was the first bit of genuine mirth she’d felt in a while. “You sound like Souji, asking questions so I’ll think of the answers myself. Was it a waste? Hell if I know. I can’t think of anything right now.”

 

“If it’s what you want, then don’t give up on it just because you’ve hit a wall.”

 

She cocked her head to the side, a dry, brittle smile on her face. “Why? Have you got a rocket launcher handy? Because this is a pretty huge wall we’re talking about.” She checked her tone and cringed when she heard how close her words came to scorn. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I appreciate that you’re here. Everyone else is busy.”

 

If her tone bothered him, it didn’t show. If anything, he smiled a bit more. “You said that you studied with Naoto-san and Yukiko-san, right? What if I helped you?”

 

“What do you have in mind?”

 

“Might be that you just learned things wrong, or weren’t focusing on the right things.” He paused to let his words sink in before he continued. “I know how hard it is to switch your focus for tests, especially when you’re dealing with things you’re not used to. But if we try a different approach, then we’ll have a better chance of getting it right.”

 

Chie took another long draw of water, giving herself time to think. “How would that make a difference? Studying’s studying, and I put in a lot of late nights for the exam. If I couldn’t get it a few weeks ago, I don’t think there’s much I could have done differently.”

 

Kou shook his head, the dogged look in his eyes intensifying. “You studied the same way you always did when you were in school. I hate to say it, but you never were that good at tests.” She glared at him for the reminder and he held up a hand to ward her off. “And I’m just pointing that out. I don’t mean it negatively. My point is this: you’ve tried a method that hasn’t worked, so why not try for a new one that could?”

 

Chie stared at him long and hard before sighing and running her hand through her hair. “Maybe. I’m not sure. Where is this idea coming from?”

 

“Personal experience.” She cocked her head to the side, and he chuckled while stroking his jaw, a wry smile, his trademark wry smile, across his face. “I thought I wanted to go for a sports scholarship when I graduated. Seemed like the best road to take, all things considered, to play basketball professionally and travel abroad. But I expanded my horizons one day because my grandmother brought up something that was completely unrelated. She started talking about kinesiology and how it connected to nutrition and muscles and body structure. I gave it a try and it’s been an uphill battle ever since.”

 

She waited for him to continue, but he shrugged. “That doesn’t make sense,” she pointed out when he didn’t say anything more. “You know sports and muscles and all that stuff. Why would kinesiology be a problem for you?”

 

“Nutrition,” he told her simply. “Enzymes and calorie intake and metabolism. All the science that goes into being an athlete that I never gave a second thought to before, and none of it has been coming easily for me. Most of the stuff we covered in school was easy enough, but this is different. I don’t know why, but it’s just not as easy, so I’ve had to adjust my studies and my approaches to get the most out of it.”

 

Chie started to see what he meant, where he was going, but she asked anyway. “And Souji’s not helping you? He’s pretty sharp with science and that stuff.”

 

Kou was shaking his head before she even finished. “No, and it’s because he knows all this stuff that I’m doing it on my own. Souji’s a great teacher for things that click with people, same as Yukiko-san, but this isn’t something that I connect with. Whenever we talk about it, his explanations just leave me more lost than how I started, like I can’t understand what we’ve covered after he leaves. In that way, his experience doesn’t do me any good. Nothing against him – he’s a great friend in every other way. But this is a case where I have to find my own way of doing things, and that’s because it doesn’t come to me naturally. Different disciplines need different approaches and all that.”

 

This was news to her. She straightened and walked over to him, gesturing for him to keep going. “And you’re going forward with it anyway?”

 

“Yep. It’s what I want to do. Well, it’s part of what I want to do, but ignoring the hard stuff or just getting a good enough grade to pass feels like I’m giving up. So I’ve had to learn on my feet this last little while.”

 

Chie nodded. It did make sense, how he was explaining it. And she’d felt the same way around Souji sometimes, which was why she’d asked Naoto-kun for help in the first place. “I see what you mean. I hadn’t thought of it before; didn’t know it made that much of a difference, but I’ll look into it. Thanks for the advice.”

 

There was an intense look to his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before. “Let me help you.”

 

She took two steps back before his words sank in, and she looked up owlishly at him when they did. “What?”

 

For her two steps back, he took three steps forward, eyes and voice insistent. “Let me help you. I know how I’ve been learning things, I’ve been keeping notes, and I think that we can find something that works for you, that’ll help you study for the police exam. Or a university entrance exam, whichever you want to do. This is something we have in common, so it makes sense to help each other out, right?”

 

Her reply took a few seconds to come out, surprised as she was. “You want to help me study while you go over your own notes? So I could help you on your nutrition stuff if you need it?”

 

A single nod. “That’s right.”

 

Her head cocked to the side, and whether it was Kou or the distraction he provided, her muscles were less pained now. She’d gotten her second wind. “What do you have in mind? Nutrition and police procedures have nothing in common.”

 

He gave a calm smile, like he’d been waiting for her to ask that question. “I learn best when I’m talking to people. It helps me see how the information connects. And you might bring up ideas that I hadn’t thought of before, so working with you would help my studies in the long run. I can add perspective and ideas to the stuff you’re covering, too.”

 

Chie looked at him, silent and a little skeptical, while he smiled and held out his hands. “I dunno,” she replied slowly. “I mean, thanks for the offer, but I’m not sure how this is going to work when we actually try it.” _And I don’t know how so much time alone is going to work with… this. Us._

 

“We’ll work it out,” he told her calmly, exuding confidence so strong that she smelled it instead of the sweat and dirt all over herself. “We’ll find something that works, even if we get it wrong a few times before then, and keep going with it until we get to where we want to go.”

 

Again with all the ‘we’s. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, already conflicted over the exam results, but he wasn’t letting her doubts get in the way.

 

“And I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to,” he told her, smile firmly in place and sincerity strong in his eyes.

 

Chie looked at him for a moment before giving a hard sigh. “I can see you doing it, too. That’s the scary part. You’d chase me all the way back to town just so you could beg me if I told you ‘no,’ wouldn’t you?”

 

“The idea had crossed my mind,” he replied with a flash of his teeth. “Among a few other things, but those won’t be necessary, right?”

 

She smiled. Genuinely smiled. Maybe this was just wishful thinking and blind hope, and maybe she was in denial and grabbing for something that told her that the failure wasn’t her fault. But that didn’t matter. When he looked at her like that, spoke with that much conviction, she couldn’t help but want to see where it went. She stepped forward and held her hand out. Rock steady. “Alright. Let’s try it your way and see where it gets us. Can’t get any worse, right?”

 

He took it without a stutter or a pause, solid and even, and shook it once. “I promise you won’t regret it.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

****

**_June 9 th_ **

 

Had his parents ever visited Inaba, he was certain they would have gone crazy from the slow pace of life. So attuned to the rushing currents of corporate work and striving against every other co-worker while equally being as polite to them as they could be was a natural reflex to them, part of how they thrived, and he could only imagine how much fidgeting there would be as they tried to find something that would require two days of work jammed into a ten-hour timeframe.

 

He’d give them eight days, he thought with a laugh as he walked along the Samegawa, just past the familiar gazebo. Anything beyond that would stretch their nerves so thin that they could have been used as rice paper. And with so few people around who eyed each other’s back and had desk drawers full of sharpened knives, they would be the talk of the town, always watching out for something that would probably never come. Which would only exacerbate those frayed nerves even more, and the thought made him grin.

 

Of course, all of that was on the condition that they ever came to Inaba, and while he wouldn’t openly stop them from coming to visit, for Nanako’s sake, he certainly wasn’t going to suggest it to them. Or invite them. Or even bring it up in the most unlikely of throw-away comments.

 

It was an easy thing to sympathize with, however, used to the bustle and noise as he had been. He’d been ready to start climbing the walls when he first arrived, but the quiet started to grow on him after a couple months, as had the slower pace of life. There was nothing wrong with walking slowly along the river trail, no pressing urgency to his strides. If anything, the laid-back days and familiar scenery were a reprieve from how hectic he knew things were going to get. The uneventful walk was certainly better than planning for jobs at his new university and applying for scholarships and talking to academic officials. If he knew before that he would have to stay on hold for that long while some self-important snob told him that his name was rather common so it would take some time to find his records, he would have chosen a different university, and definitely a different department to work at. But today was the day he’d gotten all his arrangements made and his loose ends tied up, and he was celebrating by meeting his girlfriend for some one-on-one time.

 

The thought brought a smile to his face, and with ideal timing since he headed up the path toward Yasogami High. The memories were there, soaked into the windows and walls and the very rocks, voices from all angles in his mind as he headed to the staircase along the side of the building. He thought of everything he’d seen since that day in April years ago and let the smile come out, laughing at the parties of the investigation team and the holidays they’d spent together while he climbed the stairs. And by the time he passed through the gate leading to the roof, all thoughts of his parents and attending university were missing from his mind. And he had her to thank for it.

 

Yukiko waved him over when she saw him from her perch on the roof, same as where they’d met for their team meetings and the ‘tofu incident’ as Chie had come to calling it. “You made it,” she noted happily with two bento boxes from Junes next to her.

 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, stepping past the vents and air conditioners out of habit and sitting next to her as her hand found his almost immediately.

 

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by her darting forward to kiss him on the cheek, holding close and kissing him a few more times before pulling back to look him in the eye the a smile that put the sun above them to shame. “I’ve missed you,” she murmured. “It seems like every time I think I’ll have a day to myself, something else comes up.”

 

He raised a hand to brush her hair back over her ear, noting how she leaned toward his touch just a little. “I know the feeling. You wouldn’t think residency and class registration would be so much work. But we’ll have to make the most of the time we have left, so I hope you don’t mind if I invite you over as much as I can.”

 

“It sounds like you have a good reason for me to come over and visit,” she began with a smile, nodding for him to continue.

 

“I do indeed,” he told her with a smile. “You’re going to come over to my place so we can make sure you know how to cook before you head off to university. And if anyone asks why I’m teaching you, then you can say that the cooks at the Inn are busy with guests and don’t have the time to show you the ropes.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Of course. I promised you lessons, and with everything to do with the universities out of the way, there’s no reason not to cover that. Unless something’s come up?”

 

She shook her head immediately. “No no, of course not. I just thought you might have forgotten.”

 

Souji smiled while trying to look wounded. “Not a chance. I’ve been looking forward to it. Same as I do every chance we can be together.”

 

That brought a chuckle out of her, enough that she covered her mouth with her hand. “You’re terrible. Your lines are getting worse and worse every day.”

 

He shrugged with absolute confidence. “Even being terrible at something takes effort. So, what do you think? Is that a valid enough reason to see your boyfriend?”

 

“It will do,” she told him almost dismissively, though her smile was happy. “I brought us lunch, I thought you might be hungry.” She indicated the two wrapped bento. “I was going to make it myself, but I got so busy at the Inn that I didn’t have the time.”

 

“These will do fine,” he told her calmly, keeping his thanks for her busy schedule to himself. They opened their respective boxes and ate mostly in silence, passing the time with idle conversation between bites and swallows. Given that the boxes weren’t especially large, they polished them off shortly and sat together, looking out over as much of Inaba as they could see.

 

“Here,” she said suddenly, shuffling a few feet away. “I want to try something. Lie down.”

 

He raised an eyebrow at her words. “Lie down? I’m not that tired.”

 

“Try it,” she insisted, patting her skirted legs. “We’ve never done this before.”

 

It was unusual, especially since he couldn’t recall the last time anyone had volunteered to let him rest on them. But the anticipation in her eyes broke down what sparse resistance he felt at resting his head on his girlfriend’s pretty lap, so he spun ninety degrees and lowered himself back, letting her move and adjust so that the back of his head met two firm but soft thighs. The tension went out of him when she rested a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. Silence reigned over them for a minute while smaller adjustments were made, but he had no complaints. She was almost as soft as his pillow, and he was curious about how she’d react if he told her as much. “If I fall asleep, you’re carrying me down,” he warned her with a smile.

 

“That’s if you can sleep through hitting the roof face-first,” she shot back without pause. There was no hesitation or guilt in her voice. It was a world away from when he’d first arrived. Everything had changed since then.

 

“You’ve changed a lot, you know,” he noted, shifting a bit so his head was touching her stomach, breathing in the scent of her skin and summer and light clothes washing detergent. “Back when I moved here, I don’t think anyone would have expected Amagi Yukiko to let a guy use her lap as a pillow. Nor would she be cracking jokes about pushing him over in his sleep.”

 

“That was a long time ago,” she assured him with a light chuckle. “There was so much to do with the investigations and everything else in Inaba. It wouldn’t have been fair if I stayed behind and let everyone else do the work.”

 

Her words brought a flash of memory to his mind, back to when her being dressed  in pink reminded him of wilting cherry blossoms. “You have come a long way though,” he murmured. “Back then you always seemed like you were trying so hard, but you never ended up happy for it, and… Ah, never mind.” He brushed at the air with a free hand. “No need to bring up the past like that.”

 

“No,” she told him. “Keep going. I don’t mind. I want to hear what you have to say.” He kept silent for a moment, and she smiled a bit as she looked down at him. “I’m not afraid of what happened back then. I know what I was like, and it just means I have something to measure against. If that’s what you were going to say, though, then I’m alright with it.”

 

“It isn’t,” he replied after a moment. “I was just thinking of the sad-looking girl in the rain, and how it seemed like she couldn’t get anything out of life. I could sympathize with that feeling, because it was like seeing myself in the mirror. Then everything started to happen with the murders and the Shadows, and suddenly what I did mattered. It made an impact on other people. And I think that’s how it was with you, too.”

 

“That’s close,” she told him quietly, her face unreadable.

 

He chuckled. “This is stupid, but when you asked for my help in front of the bookstore back then, I thought about what your Shadow said. I was learning how to open up and help everyone, but I wanted to be that prince that your Shadow talked about. A knight in shining armour to protect the damsel in distress.”

 

She looked down at him, incredulity in her eyes even as a smile tugged her lips upward.

 

“It’s true,” Souji admitted with a laugh. “I wanted to help you, to protect you from whatever came at you, and be that person for you. I didn’t realize back then that that was precisely what you didn’t need. You weren’t a flower that needed shelter or a princess in a tower with a dragon at the bottom.”

 

“Then what was I?” she asked as she gently ran her fingers back and forth through his hair

 

“You were a girl who needed a friend more than a protector,” he responded candidly. “I was of far more use when I was helping you on the path you chose instead of clearing the path so you wouldn’t have to work at it. I could have tried to be that prince, but that wouldn’t have helped you in the long run. Wouldn’t have been good for either of us.” He went quiet for a little while, thinking it over. “And that was for the better. Because you make for a much better friend than a damsel. Walking beside you has been everything I didn’t know I wanted and needed, if that makes any sense.”

 

“It does,” she told him quietly, still softly massaging his scalp. “I’ve felt the same way for a long time, that having you beside me was what made all the difference in the end. I could never find the right words though.”

 

“Then it worked out well for both of us then,” he concluded rather proudly.

 

Things went quiet between them for another few minutes before she took a breath and looked down. “Thank you for being there,” she murmured, pulling his hand up to kiss the back of it.

 

He returned the gesture and looked up with a smile. “Thanks for needing me.”

 

\---

****

**_June 15 th_ **

 

There was a certain gift that came with cooking, a state of mind or sense of accomplishment born from creating something and making it just right. Souji had discovered it when he realized how independent it made him, not being bound to instant noodles and fast food because the pots and pans in his parents’ kitchen saw as much use as an ice machine in Siberia. He’d talked to Kanji about it, and it seemed that the younger teen felt much the same when he was sewing and working with his hands. Much like Naoto’s detective work and Yosuke’s continued purchasing of rare CDs, it was how they got ‘in the zone’ and found their focus. Almost Zen-like, if he wanted to be philosophical about it.

 

There was nothing philosophical about Yukiko’s prior attempts to destroy his kitchen and create a compound more caustic than pure hydrochloric acid. Sure, she hadn’t meant to, but her insistence that rice vinegar and baking soda and curry powder would ‘add depth’ to the food became very difficult to curtail. “Start at the basics,” he told her again and again. “Don’t start with something exotic until you know how everything’s going to taste.”

 

“The basics are bland,” she replied, hair tied back with a red band as she looked unfairly cute in a starched white apron and a determined expression on her face. “What’s the point of making food if it isn’t going to taste good?”

 

Souji chuckled, pointing at the bowls on the table. “Even so, you can’t throw what you think is going to taste good together and expect something even better. I like pomegranates and shark fin soup, but I’m not going to mix them in a blender and expect it to come out perfect.”

 

She smiled confidently, doing the same. “Of course not. You should add cornstarch to that so it’ll be thick enough to bake.”

 

When he first offered to teach her how to cook, he didn’t realize how much he’d be learning the virtue of patience. So he took precautions. Determined to get his point across, he invited her over for cooking lessons and brought down his old cookbooks to teach her some basic recipes. When she tried to get exotic and raid his fridge for ‘special additions,’ she was stymied by the lack of anything else besides the ingredients for what they would be making. Fruits, vegetables, fish, soup stock, Dojima’s beer, dinner leftovers, and even Nanako’s cake from her friend’s birthday were nowhere to be found. Only the items that were required could be seen, much to her suspicion if the narrow look she gave him was any hint at all. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

 

Her tone brushed by him as he smiled and held his hands out in a ‘what can you do?’ manner. “Perish the thought, my dear. Now, find what you need and let’s get to work. You’ll save a lot of money if you can cook for yourself.”

 

So they began her formal education in the culinary arts. She knew the measurements easily enough, and seemed almost dissatisfied when what was in the recipe was all they needed to make their dishes. Rice balls, which formed into rabbit shapes perfectly at her touch, wonton soup set to a simmer, and sweet and sour pork in a very simple sauce. “There,” he told her as they finished cleaning up. “That’s all there is to it.”

 

Yukiko seemed less convinced. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we add–“

 

“Nope. It’s not in the recipe, so let’s leave it alone.” He brushed off what little flour had managed to get on him and stretched near the dinner table, cracking and popping from fingers to feet.

 

“I don’t know, though,” she mused, staring at the dishes while shedding her apron. “Will it taste alright? It doesn’t seem like we added very much to the sauce.”

 

Souji shook his head and leaned against the table, perfectly happy with the smells drifting through the house. “Humans have pretty simple palettes, Yukiko. There’s no need to try and cram everything into one dish if you’re going to make more than one course. And even then, there will always be next time.”

 

“Did you ever do this with your past girlfriends?”

 

He turned and raised an eyebrow, curious from the sudden jump in topic. That wasn’t like her, prying into his past so suddenly. “No,” was his cautious, level reply. “I didn’t know how to cook very well back then. And the opportunity never came up.”

 

“Oh.” Her expression was curious and lacked any form of shame or contrition. “I just thought you might’ve. You never talk about them, so there might’ve been something wrong with them or a bad memory or something.”

 

Ah. So it was time for _that_ conversation. At least she didn’t sound jealous. Souji turned to her with a lopsided smile and crossed his arms. “Not really, but it’s no more strange than you not talking about a past boyfriend, right?”

 

There only time for one blink before she answered. “That’s because there aren’t any.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “None? Not even a guy in grade school who hung around you all the time, or–

 

“No. Nothing like that,” she told him immediately.

 

Her abruptness stopped him in his tracks. Not hard or cold, but so certain with no alternative or other possibility even being entertained that he wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. It made sense, when he thought about it. When he’d moved to Inaba, she was distant and withdrawn, and Chie had been an excellent guard against unwanted attention. And having Ryoko and Katsushiro-san for parents probably meant that most guys would have been lucky to only be platonic friends. “I guess that makes sense. That’s too bad – exes can make for some pretty good stories,” he replied dryly.

 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she replied without the slightest look or hint of contrition. If anything, she looked expectant and ready and a little bit smug, like she knew where the conversation was going and how little choice there was in the matter.

 

_Little brat._

 

But thinking about those days brought back all the crap associated with them, and his grin melted off his face like hot wax. “Are you sure you want to hear about them?” he asked a little distantly, a familiar grey pall sucking the colour from the room around him. Even her usual striking red and white leeched away like clothes after too many runs through the wash.

 

“Is it a bad topic to bring up?” she asked quietly, in tune with his mood and showing a shard of concern in her eyes.

 

Souji was quiet for a moment before giving a heavy sigh and running his hand back through his hair. “No more than my parents, I guess,” he told her finally. “It’s not something I like to bring up though. For the same reasons.” There was a long silence then. Maybe she was waiting for him to continue, or maybe she didn’t know what to say. But it stretched and cracked and whatever reasons and excuses he had to keep silent fell away the more he thought of bringing them up. Souji sighed before he held his hand out. “Come here. Let’s talk about it and get it out in the open.”

 

“You don’t have to,” she told him. “And I mean that. If it’s not pleasant, then you don’t need to relive it because I asked.”

 

“No, you’re right. I don’t talk enough about this stuff, and it’s not like it’s so terrible a thing that I can’t talk about it.”

 

He rested back against the arm of the couch while she sat near the middle, sitting close to him and resting an arm along the back of her seat. Her prior smugness and humour was gone, as was any suspicion. Her eyes were large and dark and seemed ready to take in whatever he had to say.

 

It really wasn’t fair, her looking so willing to help and listen. How was he supposed to keep secrets when she looked at him like that? He sighed and shook his head before collecting his thoughts.

 

“I wouldn’t say I had a lot of girlfriends,” Souji began. “And I know that sounds like the beginning to a lot of excuses and bad break-ups, but I think it’s more that I’ve gotten along with girls better than guys when I look at the numbers. Girls tended to be a bit smarter and more mature while most guys were idiots. Either way, I had more friends who were female growing up, so it seemed like I had a lot of girlfriends when I was going through school.”

 

“Does that mean there were a lot of…” she narrowed her eyes a little, “almost-girlfriends?”

 

Souji shook his head. “I wouldn’t say so, no. Someone looking at me from the outside would probably think so, and maybe I was less aware of things back then compared to now. I’m not really sure. But for the ones whom I would call girlfriends, such as they were back then, only two qualify.”

 

Yukiko nodded and shuffled a bit closer, their knees touching, and she took possession of his left hand and wrapped her fingers around it, gently tracing around his scars.

 

“My first girlfriend was what you might call a first love.” He watched her for any sign of jealousy or discomfort, but when she just tilted her head a little, he continued. “This goes back to two schools before I moved here, when I was around fourteen. Kanashita Ayumu seemed like a carbon copy of me. Smart, quiet, cute for her age, and pretty shy. But when she came out of her shell and started talking, she actually had a pretty cool sense of humour.” He chuckled at the memory. “There weren’t a lot of people who knew this about her, but she had some interesting pets. A macaw she’d trained to hold conversations with, and it got so good at imitating voices, so she said, that it could pretend to be her mother and tell the school secretary that she’d be absent from school. I have no idea if it was true, but she was pretty convincing when she talked about it. Then there were her lizards. Bearded dragons. You’d swear they were part kitten though, because they practically purred when they climbed on people. And they got along fine with the bird, if you can believe that.”

 

“I hope that’s not something I have to worry about in the future,” she remarked with a smile.

 

Souji let out a puff of air, smiling a little. “No, I don’t have the mindset for pets. I live out of a suitcase these days. Anyway, Ayu was my first serious girlfriend. And by serious I mean that I asked, she accepted, and we did the sorts of things kids that age do. Went to the movies, cut class to go to the festivals when they were in town, became friends with each other’s friends, and spent as much time as we could together.”

 

She tilted her head, curious. “How long was that?”

 

The answer was on his lips as soon as she asked. “Almost two years. That we lived within a few blocks of each other helped things, too. My parents were already busy with their work and were never at home to bother me or get in the way, and the housekeepers they hired were okay with me never being around.”

 

“It sounds like you were happy.” Her tone was soft, almost lost because he was mired in his memories.

 

He tightened his grip on her hand until she looked up so he could smile at her. It lasted until she returned it, then it died off with his next words. “I was.”

 

Yukiko took a long breath, and Souji knew what was coming next. “If that’s the case, then what went wrong?”

 

“Nothing. We didn’t have a falling out or a serious break-up or screaming matches. We were actually thinking of ways to make sure we’d be in the same classes from then on, and even had plans for the summer already lined up. Trips, festivals and fairs, everything.” Souji’s eyes narrowed, and he couldn’t keep the ice out of his voice. “The problem was my father. We were living in Nagoya when all this was happening, but a position opened in Tokyo that, to use his words, couldn’t be passed up. I learned about it when he picked me up from school, one of the six times he’s ever done that, and the last time I ever let him. He told me we were moving right away, and I thought he was joking. Thing is, he doesn’t have a sense of humour that doesn’t involve mass layoffs or corporate mergers, and when I thought there would be time to say my farewells to everyone… well, I was wrong.

 

“To put it into perspective,” he continued, voice harder than railroad spikes and twice as sharp, “he told me about this on a Thursday, and we were in Tokyo, moved and unpacked, by that Sunday.”

 

She let out a breath, understanding emerging across her face. “So that’s why you don’t get along.”

 

“It’s number two on a very long list.”

 

“How did Kanashita take it?”

 

“Badly,” Souji replied simply. “Ayu knew what my family situation was like, but the distance was the real problem. All the plans we’d made were pointless, the hopes we’d had of going ahead in school together, well, those went up in flames, and given that the move was because of a promotion and not a temporary project or assignment, I wouldn’t be going back. I didn’t have the money or the resources to visit, and when I started to crash in school because I was around complete strangers, I lost my cell phone until my grades improved.” He barked a cold laugh, his smile as brittle as frosty glass. “That didn’t help. It took me almost eight months to get back on my feet, and when I found the time to write letters by hand, there wasn’t a lot that I could say. We tried keeping in touch, but she had problems with her own family and couldn’t keep in touch for very long. Her father’d always had a weak constitution and ended up overworking himself to the point of passing out. It took a long time for him to recover.”

 

“That’s terrible,” she murmured. “Didn’t your father care? That almost seems inhuman of him.”

 

“He eased up a bit when I told him what it meant to me,” Souji conceded. “Then he told me to focus on my studies so I didn’t miss out on any opportunities. My mother was a little better – she promised to get me my phone back if I worked hard for it, but then projects came up and she had to stay at the office for sixteen hours a day, so that promise fell by the wayside.”

 

“But you did talk to Kanashita again, didn’t you?”

 

“Not really, no. By the time I’d gotten everything sorted out, Ayu and her family had moved away, and the people at her house had nothing specific to go on for clues. The people I knew thought I’d snubbed her and told me off, or they just didn’t know themselves. Last I heard, she and her family had moved for a better job opportunity for both her parents. But I never got a letter stating her new address or phone number, and it sounds like she’d gotten so busy that her family was her primary concern. When I thought about her afterwards, I still had no clues to go on, and no idea what I would’ve said even if I did. So that’s how my first real relationship ended.”

 

“That… couldn’t have been easy.”

 

Souji shrugged. “It is what it is. But that’s the worst of it. It’s not like I staggered from one bad relationship into the next.”

 

“But there was one more, wasn’t there?”

 

“Yeah. My last girlfriend I didn’t have nearly as strong a connection to.” He gave a cold snort at the memory. Yukiko watched him quietly, and he knew that his eyes had glassed over with that same apathy, that distance, that had weighed down his shadow like a ball and chain when he’d arrived in Inaba. But he didn’t hold it back. She had asked, and he promised to be honest with her, even when it was hard. Especially when it was hard. “Akamatsu was like a girl out of a manga. Funny, cute, smart, popular. All the things that would make anyone shine, and she did that very well.”

 

There was a hard edge in his voice, but Yukiko didn’t flinch. Her expression didn’t change either. Instead of looking even slightly uncomfortable or edgy, she was watching him. And holding onto his hand, he realized. When had that happened?

 

“But when things feel too good to be true, they usually are. Akamatsu was everything that should have made me happy to be around her, but there was always something off about her. And I could never pin it down. She was nice to others, always on top of what was going on around school, and seemed like she had a lot of friends. But I played it safe and kept to myself.” He gave a shrug, looking past Yukiko’s face and straight into his memories. “Maybe I was still smarting from what happened with Ayu, expecting the bottom to fall out of things if I got too attached. I’ll never know. But I can say that there wasn’t much of a spark with her. Not a lot of chemistry even if we got along pretty well in class and after school. Most things we talked about, we agreed on, now that I think about it.”

 

“What went wrong?”

 

“I’m not sure when or how it happened, but it seemed like I suddenly stopped being interesting to her. Word on the grapevine was that there was a new guy, another transfer student, who’d caught her eye. I had been different, interesting, and that’s what she wanted to be near. When I didn’t qualify anymore, I wasn’t worth hanging onto.” He felt her stiffen up at his words, and stroked the back of her hand to calm her down.

 

“Then she didn’t deserve you,” Yukiko declared with a cold ebony fire in her eyes. It took a few minutes to calm her down, and Souji felt rather pleased with how seriously she took the slight against him, real or imagined.

 

“It doesn’t matter now,” he told her calmly. “Anyway, if you believe that side of things, then she always wanted to be in the spotlight with whomever was popular at the time. I’m not sure if that’s true or not, because there were days when she was distant and closed off rather than friendly or outgoing. Maybe she had a hard time really trusting people. I’m not sure.”

 

“Would it have made a difference if she did?” Yukiko asked quietly. “If she didn’t care about you then, I doubt she would have committed to anything serious.”

 

“I’m not sure. Like I said, there wasn’t much of a spark between us, so it’s hard to think of us going further than where we were. Might also be that I wouldn’t have been on my guard if she were more open and we could have made something happen.” He shook his head, coming out of the memories and leaving them behind as he looked at her. “But nothing did happen. She moved on and I transferred here about eight months later. I’d given up on girls by then and just focused on school by then.

 

“That’s it. All my sordid relationships before now.” He gave a dry chuckle. It didn’t hurt as much, talking about them now. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about any late-night phone calls or unexpected visits.”

 

“Thank you for telling me,” she told him, moving forward to kiss him on the cheek. “Those weren’t… what I was expecting. I’m sorry I brought them up.”

 

He shook his head. He hadn’t been saying those words to assuage any guilt she might have felt – he genuinely felt better after sharing his past with her. “Don’t be. You said I had to open up about these things, and you were right. It hurt when it happened, but I’m over it now. Besides, it’s how I know that this is the real thing: you’re the first one to make me feel this way.” He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back. “Even Ayu didn’t get this far with me. Not even close.”

 

If he was expecting her to be bashful or thoughtful, he would have been disappointed. Instead of backing away from his old wounds carefully or giving him a pep talk, she seemed to latch onto his last sentence and played it up. She leaned forward with sparkling eyes and a full-lipped smile, almost close enough for their noses to touch. “Not even close?” she repeated teasingly. “Why’s that?”

 

“You’re amazing,” he told her simply, peering at her with the same infectious humour that pushed away his thoughts of the past like morning light on shadows. “That’s all there is to it.”

 

But she shook her head and smiled insistently. “No no, that’s not all there is to it. You have to tell me what I’m doing right so that I can get better.”

 

Souji’s eyes narrowed playfully. “You’re really getting pushy, you know that?”

 

“And you love it,” she shot back. “Come on and tell me.”

 

He rested his hands on her back, slowly pulling her forward while staring her in the eye, feeling that familiar arousal roiling under the surface. He glanced down to her lips, a full, pink bow that was always softer and far more addictive than he remembered. Then down, down, to her shoulders, just the right width and size. He began massaging the base of her spine, feeling her quiet moan as she shifted back and forth to get closer to him, so much so that she rose up a little on her knees and straddled him.

 

That wasn’t an accident though. Her movements made her breasts jiggle and shift under the square neckline of her shirt, which was exactly where he was looking. She knew it, and as soon as he felt her fingers running through his hair, he lifted his right hand to rest between her shoulder blades. His left ceased its massage and settled firmly on her backside, feeling the toned curve through her skirt. Soft but firm with just the right amount of give. She was stiff above him, watching closely, and he decided to pay her back for before by slowly squeezing and releasing and rubbing around her rear, feeling the tension between them tighten like piano wire.

 

“Souji,” she breathed, staring at him with increasingly dark eyes while her breathing picked up. And the edge of her shirt rose and fell faster. Her fingers flexed in his hair, back and forth, like she was waiting on something. Or wasn’t certain.

 

He brushed both possibilities aside and pulled her down, kissing her hard. Her startled surprise stoked a deep, possessive part of him. She wasn’t the only one who could be assertive and pushy, and when her mewling little moan tingled along his lips, he pulled her flat against him.

 

And far from against it, she reached her arms further around him, drawing him closer still and tilting her head to get the angle just right. He loved this about her. The warmth, acceptance, and how she kissed back so perfectly. Soft lips that were moist enough to pull him in, how her breathing hitched, just so, that inviting, tantalizing smell of her shampoo and perfume. It was all enough to make his hands tremble with nerves for the first time in years. Yukiko pulled back just long enough to catch her breath and smile, lopsided and silly, before they wrapped together again, lips and sighs and her shifting in his lap.

 

His right hand came up to cradle her head, keep her in place while the feel of her fingernails through his hair, grazing ever so lightly along his scalp until she reached the back of his head. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, and his left hand drifted up her hip to the edge of her shirt. When she moved, so did he. Kissing hard and tuning into her sighs, he slowly trailed up her stomach, soft, perfect skin under his finger. His eyes slitted open and he watched her while his fingers reached the bottom of her cotton bra, then the soft flesh it held up.

 

He trembled as his hand cupped around her, just as she pulled back a bit in surprise. He’d never felt his girlfriend up, held the soft, firm curve of her breast in her hand. Or felt her nipple straining against the fabric, teasing the inside of his finger as he brushed it up, then down again. Even her racing heartbeat was impossible to miss.

 

It was fascinating, how she reacted to him. Responded only to him. He shivered from her reactions, heart racing like his nerves were wired to hers. The power, the responsibility, the desire to keep going, it all burned in his veins like fire and left him sweating more than the heat outside.

 

“Souji…” she whimpered out, looking at him with midnight eyes. That was cheating, how she made his name sound. Small and breathless and needy and wanting, like he was all she required in life. That was how she was to him, had been for a while, but seeing it in her eyes made his heart squeeze and quiver.

 

He leaned up and kissed her again, stroking across her bra, rubbing over the stiff tip of her nipple with his thumb. It pulled a low, long, soft moan from her, vibrating up her throat and right down into his own, especially when he pressed into the soft flesh a little more, stroking faster.

 

She began to tremble, eyes fluttering behind their lids, but when he broke the kiss, breathless and filled with the scent and touch and feel of _her_ , the hands on his shoulders tightened, just a little, and he halted his advance and looked at her.

 

Cheeks flushed, lips bruised, eyes distant and his hand resting on her bra, it felt like everything was as it should be. But there was a glimmer of something in her eyes, a tension to her face that held him in place as much as her hands. When she didn’t move for a few long, drawn-out moments, still straddling him, he slid his hand from her chest and to her back, slowly pulling her forward despite her reservations, until he was hugging her closely, head resting in the crook of her neck. And much as he would have loved to stay at her neck, pepper it with kisses and love bites, he knew something was off.

 

Closing his eyes for a moment to choke back the urges in him, hammering at him to keep going and not stop _again_ , he let out a steadying breath and looked over at her. “It’s a bit scary, isn’t it?” he murmured, easily loud enough to hear.

 

Yukiko drew back enough to look him at him with a sidelong stare, the same emotions raging through her. She was questioning him, wondering how he knew, then whether either of them were really ready. And she flushed, head sinking down with a shuddering breath. “I’m… it’s not…”

 

“It’s alright, Yukiko,” he assured her, stroking her back and trying to comfort her without stoking the passions that still burned bright between them. “It’s a big step. Are you ready for it? Are we?”

 

“I think I am,” she told him as she rested her forehead against his shoulder. Past her words, her mounting frustration was growing evident. “We should be,” she nearly growled to herself. “We’ve been together long enough, and I love you…”

 

“But you’re still not ready for full-out sex,” he finished for her. She was about to speak when he set a finger against her lips. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Yukiko. I love you too, but that doesn’t mean we have to jump into something like that.”

 

Her head raised up enough for their eyes to connect. “You don’t want to?”

 

He rested his hand on her knee and slowly ran it up her thigh, dragging the ends of his fingers up as he went up her skirt. Her shudder in response said everything. “As much as you do,” he assured her in a low, smoky voice that caught her gaze. “Don’t think for a second that I would be here if I didn’t want to be.” He ceases his teasing and rubbed her marble-smooth leg and back again, until the a bit of the tension left her. “But going all the way is a big deal. And we have the time to take it as we want.”

 

She straightened to her full height, as much as she could while on his legs, and shook her head sharply as soon as he finished talking. “That can be a problem as much as a blessing. Taking things slow doesn’t mean not moving at all. I understand where you’re going with that, but we keep getting sidetracked or interrupted. It feels like we’re not getting anywhere.”

 

Souji sighed. She was right. This was becoming like a bad romantic manga or a cheesy fantasy fairytale, interruptions every time ‘sex’ was even thought of. And those feelings and hormones that drove them, demanded that they strip and screw like rabbits, were definitely still there. “You’re right. So here’s what we’ll do: Dojima’s taking Nanako out in a week, just like they planned. We’ll get together then and work this out without any distractions.”

 

She looked intrigued, waiting a moment before speaking. “Work out what?”

 

He shrugged. “Whatever you like, for as long as we need. There are other things we can do besides sex, after all. We can spend the week doing research and try out whatever we come up with then.”

 

“Research. You mean…”

 

He shrugged. “Whatever you want to use for reference material. It’s better than fumbling around with no idea what we’re doing. And you can always think of it as educational if it’s a problem.”

 

There was a distinct flicker of interest in her eyes. “And how far do we go when we do this?”

 

“As far as you want, so long as it doesn’t require protection.”

 

That brought a frown to her face. “You’re part of this too, you know. Don’t let me decide everything.”

 

Souji gave a small shake of his head, a genuine smile growing as they set back into their normal rhythm. “You misunderstand. I have a few things I want to test out, and I’m sure I’ll come up with more. I just don’t want you to hold back because you aren’t sure.”

 

“Is this really your first time with this?” she asked with a suspicious look, leaning forward a little. “You’re very comfortable with it.”

 

“It’s hardly the first time I’ve thought about it,” he told her with a grin, grey eyes alight with mischief.

 

She chuckled, and began to laugh as she rested against him, the tension finally cracking and giving way to a cathartic giggling session. Souji was happy to rest his hands on her hips and let her get it out of her system as she leaned against him, mind calming at the sound and the warm, familiar feel of her against him.

 

Once she was done laughing, and after the obligatory session of cuddles and kisses afterward, they rose from the couch and sat at the table and talked about nothing at all while eating the food she’d prepared. The surprise on her face forced Souji to hide his smile, especially when she murmured “That’s all it takes?” like she’d never considered simply following the recipe before. Their lunch was quiet, but every now and again he’d catch her looking at him over her chopsticks or glancing to the side for a few moments, lost in thought.

 

“Thinking about it already?” he asked her after the fourth time.

 

She blushed, but didn’t look away. Instead she smiled and shrugged, staring into his eyes without hesitation. “Well, maybe a little.”

 

Her cell phone went off a few minutes later, and she grabbed her purse and the cookbooks they’d used, at his insistence, and promised to practice cooking before they saw each other again. When he walked her to the door, she turned to give him on last slow, lingering kiss, her hand resting on his chest while his slid across the side of her face.

 

“Next week,” she told him softly as they broke apart, a smile of love and affection and promise on her lips. “We’ll make sure nothing gets in the way this time.”

 

He returned her smile and leaned against the wall. “Looking forward to it.”

 

\---

****

**_June 22 nd_ **

 

Yukiko awoke with a gentle start that morning with a fast-beating heart, the dream so vivid and real that she couldn’t believe Souji wasn’t next to her until she touched the covers. When she saw that they were unruffled, she lay back and rolled to her side, facing away from the door as she shivered. For a dream, his kisses had felt very real. So had his fingers.

 

She’d followed Souji’s advice and done some clandestine research on the ways she could channel her hormones, and what she’d learned had made her blush redder than her sweater at first, but when she remembered how his hands felt on her, she persisted and learned as much as she could. She glanced down at her nipples, hard and almost sore, and feeling the light dampness between her legs. Just shifting in place made her shudder as the fabric threads of her clothes brushed against her. Yes, she’d come a long ways since she’d seen her boyfriend last, and as she rose to look in her mirror and get changed for the day, she took a bracing breath and ran her hands down her sides, turning this way and that to better get an idea of how to make the most of what she had.

 

While she went through her mental checklist, she smiled in anticipation at what Souji might have waiting for her when she saw him.

 

As it turned out, Souji was resting against the wall near the front door, having gone through much the same rituals as his girlfriend. Showered, shaved, and brushing his hair back (he kept telling himself to get it trimmed, and kept conveniently forgetting), he waited, drumming his fingers to the tune that had been on his alarm that morning. Even dressing in something different, jeans and a button-down shirt with the first few fasteners undone, had only taken a few extra minutes and left him whittling away the time. Even the news had only been good to confirm that today would be a hot and humid one. The air outside was already getting heavy. He’d gone through a simple breakfast and cleaned the dishes, though damned if could remember what it was or what it tasted like, and tried to approach the subject of his recent studies and Yukiko’s impending arrival as objectively as he could.

 

Sadly, he was failing. His mind provided him with images of her face, memories of her kisses tasted, how her skin felt, and even the smallest nuances of her movements and hitches in her breath and even how she smelled. Souji smiled a little at how strong the memories were becoming. Still, strong emotions or not, he didn’t want to let his imagination drive him to pouncing on her as soon as she walked through the door.

 

When she did knock twice and slide the door open, he barely moved except to turn his head. She’d dressed similarly to him, with a skirt instead of jeans and a button-up blouse with her usual barrette, but her air was definitely different. The uncertainty he’d seen in her eyes was gone now, replaced with recognition and anticipation. Her smile seemed the same at first glance, but her eyes drifted along his body as he stood and waited for her to finish looking him over.

 

For the first time, conversation was difficult between them. What did one say to his girlfriend when they were going to strip each other’s clothes off and explore sex, sans actual penetration? A novel question, he was sure, and a pertinent one since she was looking at him calmly, not saying a word. He tried anyway. “Hey.”

 

She nodded in response, slipping off her shoes and stopping against the wall across from him. “It’s good to see you,” she murmured, leaving her purse on the nearby end table. Another long pause as the air between them charged with a warmth that had nothing to do with the outside temperature or humidity.

 

“Read any good books?” he tried with a smile.

 

She looked a bit surprised and lost some of that smooth veneer with a low giggle. “I have, now that you mention it. Maybe you’ve done the same?”

 

“Maybe,” was all he said. The silence rose between them again, and he chuckled finally. “This is ridiculous.”

 

She laughed along with him, looking more familiar the moment she did so. “It really is. Are you having any second thoughts?”

 

“None. Are you?”

 

Yukiko crossed the hall and laid her hand on his arm, lightly rubbing it up and down. “No. I want this as much as you do.”

 

Those words were all he needed. He took her hand and led her down the hall, tugging her close to his side as they went up the stairs and slipped into his room, and closed the curtains. She stepped up to him and he turned to kiss her. They missed. He went too high while she went to low. When they tried to correct, their noses bumped into each other, and it almost cost him his balance when he tied to move to the side while holding her. Both looked the other in the eye, neither wanting to move and make it worse, and started laughing. The uncertainty and nerves broke and he planted himself on the couch while she straddled his legs, much the same as before.

 

He leaned up to kiss her cheeks and neck, and her fingers went between them, unbuttoning his shirt and grazing the revealed skin every time. He was happy to let her since having her arms close in like that made her breasts rise against her blouse every time she breathed. Not about to lay idle, his hands went to her hips, then around to her rear before she was half done, and she jumped a bit when he squeezed and massaged her toned curves. “You like that part of me,” she whispered before wiggling back, encouraging his explorations.

 

“You started it,” he told her, continuing the rub and kissing along her shoulders.

 

She stripped him of his shirt, interrupting his fascination with her ass, or trying to. He refused to stop when she tugged the shirt back insistently. She laughed and kissed him to distract his hands so she could work the sleeves back, his hands coming up to her back and neck on reflex. Once his top was off, she ran her hands along his stomach, always gentle as she did. Taking a page from her book, Souji let her indulge in him while he moved his hands to the bottom of her blouse, working the buttons from the holes even when she smiled knowingly at him, going by feel when she leaned forward to kiss him. She didn’t put up a fight when he pulled her top off, instead watching as it slid down her arms and caught on her elbows, presenting him with her chest covered only by a white cotton bra.

 

He stared, taking her in from neck to navel and smiling when the light blush extended to her collarbone. “You’re beautiful,” he told her, watching her eyes. “Have I told you that?”

 

“Not today,” she breathed, directing his hands to her stomach.

 

“A terrible oversight,” he assured her, keeping himself under control as his hands drifted upward and cupping her breasts, testing the waters.

 

She didn’t pull back this time. She didn’t even protest. She just sighed and let him softly squeeze her and test her reactions. When he felt her stiff nipples against his hands, he ran a finger under her bra straps and reached around to try and take it off.

 

“Here,” she offered, moving back and sitting on the edge of the table, presenting her back to him, even moving her hair over her shoulder so he could get to her bra clasp.

 

It was no wonder that she made the offer so easily, however, because Souji immediately hit the roadblock of never having undone one before. He’d read about it and taken a few notes, but faced with the real thing, and on his very willing and sexy girlfriend, he fumbled around it and tried to see how the ends connected, working through it as logically as he could. Yet it stayed on, determined to make him look like an idiot.

 

“Problem?” she asked, laughter rich in her voice.

 

“Laugh it up,” he groused back, trying to work the hook and loop apart. Almost, a bit more… the diagram said it should come out if– “Got it,” he told her quietly, kissing the back of her neck as her bra fell forward and she shrugged it off.

 

“I thought it would take longer,” she replied, slowly turning with her arms across her freed breasts.

 

He shivered with desire, felt his heart skip, but closed and opened his hands a few times to keep himself steady. “Planning on making me beg?” he inquired archly.

 

Her head tilted, a smile on her face. “What if I was?”

 

Souji considered what was before him, thought it through, and made his move. He lowered his hand, one hooking under her thigh and the other under her ass, and pulled her forward as he leaned into his couch. She let out a startled yelp as he pulled her onto his lap, one hand catching the back of the sofa to stop her and the other arm, impressively, still across her chest. “Not happening,” he purred as he moved his hand up and down her thigh and the other passed through her hair and stopped on her naked back.  Her escape cut off, he leaned forward and kissed her neck, gently, softly teasing her while she sighed his name. When she was relaxed enough, he moved her arm from her body and looked at her, both topless for the first time.

 

The sight took his breath away and kicked his heart into gear. She wasn’t too big or too small, but firm and curved just like the beautiful backside he’d been getting acquainted with earlier. Her breasts suited her, and he let out a breath when that thought hit him. Of course they would – they were just another part of her.

 

Taking the initiative, he started kissing her chest. Neck, shoulders, collarbone and lower, he avoided her nipples even as they hardened and she tried to direct his head toward them. Instead went around them, above them, so close his cheeks and breath brushed against them, but never taking them into his mouth, and she let out a breathless, frustrated sound.

 

“Don’t tease me,” she whispered, nails biting into his shoulders, a pleasantly stinging fire.

 

He pulled back entirely, ignoring the scratches he was sure she left on him when he did. “Alright,” he told her, eyes dark. He grabbed her waist and felt her tense again, ready for another pull. But instead he turned in place, crouching and twisting until her back met the middle of his couch before he extricated himself from between her legs and directed them down to one end and her head to the arm of the other.

 

She lay across the couch, topless and looking at him curiously, and he smiled before kneeling and indulging in her. He kissed her sternum and worked to her cute little navel, loving her laughs as he hit her ticklish spots. Just the smell of her skin, the feel of it under his lips, was intoxicating, and when he brought his hands into play, those laughs turned breathless in a snap.

 

He circled her nipples with his fingers, switching breasts as he wished, and his other hand skirted the edge of her remaining attire, slipping under and edging her underwear, and further still when she didn’t object. The light hair he felt there was surprisingly soft, and the heat only spurred him on.

 

Yukiko bucked and shivered under his combined attentions, and did very little to stop him as her breaths shortened and she started to mewl and purr like a happy kitten.  One hand in his hair while the other was by her face, a knuckle between her teeth, she let him worship her as best he could. Lips on her stomach and ribs, one finger circling her nipple, and the other drifting under her panties, he let her sounds and breathless directions guide him. He was past the point of being sensitive or needy himself – he’d never been so hard before, no matter what source material was in front of him. But her enjoyment was his objective, taking her to the edge as best he could.

 

Because if there was one mark of his competence as her boyfriend, it was how well he could pleasure her.

 

Her breathing hitched and strained the more he continued, even more so when he moved up to lick and kiss her nipples, moving smoothly and delighting in her rasps and responses. So much so he almost didn’t hear her.

 

“W-wait,” she whispered, looking at him with yearning eyes and a restraining hand on his shoulder.

 

“Wait?” he repeated, looking at her and not sure if he’d heard right.

 

“We’re still dressed. We should change that.” She brushed his face with her fingertips, making him lean into them automatically. “And I haven’t done anything for you yet.”

 

“The sounds you’ve been making have been more than gratifying,” he told her with a grin, but she shook her head insistently.

 

“Maybe for you, but not for me. This won’t be fair if I’m the only one enjoying it.” Before he could protest, she pushed his hands back and pushed herself to her feet, albeit on wobbly legs.

 

Souji reached out to hold her steady if she needed it, bewildered. She was that close and she decided to stop? He’d never heard of that or read about it. But when she pulled off her skirt and socks and raised an eyebrow at him, expecting him to do the same, he went along with what she wanted and pulled his jeans and boxers down, resisting the urge to cover himself and hissing a bit as the air teased his sensitive penis. He looked to her just as she was stepping out of her panties, and he saw Amagi Yukiko completely nude for the first time. And the sight made him forget to breathe.

 

Long, toned legs and a lightly-haired pelvis were the only things to add to the image of her laying on his couch, but the complete picture burned into his mind like a branding iron. wonderfully proportioned, from her shoulders to her pinched waist and curved hips, her skin, complete with her own scars, and the waves of black hair that slid over her shoulder once she removed her barrette. “Absolutely perfect,” he said aloud, drinking her in.

 

She seemed to be in the same trance as he was, pulled out of it a little when she heard his words. “No more than you,” she replied, stepping toward him slowly, then off to the side. “Stay there,” she murmured, hand on his arm as she walked around him, seeing everything his clothes had covered up before. She ran her hands along his shoulders, then down his back, gentle touches cooling his heated skin as they passed. He jerked in place when she hit that spot on his spine that always set his nerves off.

 

“Just sensitive,” he told her, and he shivered when she placed a kiss on the spot. Then her hand moved down to his groin and really made him sweat. Fingers gently explored the length of it, the head, and wrapped around him as she moved around to watch his reactions. And it didn’t take long for _that_ feeling to hit him. “Easy,” he warned her, taking hold of her wrist. “Too much more and you’ll be washing your hands.”

 

“Is that a problem?” she asked, looking at him like he was her.

 

“No, but this is a new situation, so I’d rather look after you instead of me.” Her eyes hardened a bit, and he knew the objection was coming. He tilted her head up with a finger, smiling at her. “Let’s look after you first, then you can do whatever you want with me.”

 

That got her attention. “Anything?”

 

“Yep. Now or later, you can be in charge. I promise,” he added when her expression didn’t change.

 

Yukiko turned it over in her head for a moment before nodding, a teasing smile on her lips. “So what do you have in mind?”

 

Souji nodded to his futon, already laid out from his previous preparations. “We’ll need something to lay on.” She looked puzzled, but walked over to the bedding, stunning hair and glorious glutes holding his attention until she turned and kneeled, watching him curiously when he shook himself into action. Right. The bed. “Lay back,” he instructed, sitting at the edge. When she turned toward him, a smile growing on her face, he wanted to watch her forever. Naked, head perched on her hand in one of the best inexperienced ‘come hither’ poses he could imagine, he wanted to trash his idea and hand her the reins. But there was a plan to follow, and he smiled at her challenge. “Other way.” She looked puzzled, but turned over and faced away from him. And before that view could distract him, he slid onto the futon behind her, working an arm under her and easing her back against his chest. “Like this,” he whispered, kissing the curve of her ear. She let out a happy sigh and started wriggling her hips back against his erection, trapping it between them and rubbing back and forth until he grasped her hip and stopped her. His voice came out in a low growl at her antics. “Yukiko.”

 

“Was that wrong?” she giggled back, shooting a daring look over her shoulder.

 

Her mirth cut off in a moan when he started massaging her breast and nipple again, palming the warm flesh and teasing the bud between his knuckles while he softly kissed her neck and shoulder. She jerked against him when his other hand rested on her pelvis, turning in the same cycle as his other hand as he circled her vaginal lips for lubricant and moved to her clit.

 

Slow and steady, he used what she’d show him on the couch and strove to drive her crazy. Keeping his movements in tandem and thriving on her rising gasps and whispers, he stayed still and indulged in her warmth, the feeling of her sweat-slicked skin against his chest, and the sounds that were like a drugging, euphoric music to his ears. She hadn’t tried teasing him again, seeking her own pleasure and directing his hands while he made note of which places made her tremble the most

 

She bucked and mewled and gasped against him, pleasure mounting, building while she pushed against his fingers as he continued his steady pace.

 

“Let it go,” he whispered next to her ear, feeling her shudder at the passing of his breath. “Let go.” Souji rubbed around her nipple and clit at the same time, running the rough, callused pads over her sensitive flesh.

 

Yukiko jerked forward suddenly, pressing into his hands, moaning low, her whole body quaking and her fingernails digging into his arms until the spasms slowly subsided with a long, faint exhalation. Sweat droplets slid down her face as she breathed hard. Souji removed his hands, sure that she was sensitive now, but she caught them before they got too far and held them tight, a silent _thank you_ while she recovered.

 

Once she got her wind back, she turned around with a very pleased smile and pressed directly against him. His breath hitched, and she chuckled in a low, seductive voice, slowly moving her body up and down against him, dragging her still-hard nipples against his chest and threading her legs with his. “Your turn,” was all she told him in the same voice he’d used, sending him into shivers when one hand went up his back, playing with _that_ spot on his spine and the other went lower and between them.

 

He sucked his breath in through gritted teeth as her hand wrapped around him, cool skin slowly stroking his groin with the same rhythm as his back and his front, making him tremble from all sides. He grabbed her shoulder and hip, but far being deterred, she just kissed him and kept up the same steady pace, slowly, _slowly_ , bringing him closer. She broke the kiss and leaned up to his ear, deliberately rubbing her breasts against him, and whispered in her ear, “Let it go.”

 

He grunted and clenched his hands on her as she sent him over the edge, erupting on her stomach and his own while the world spun for a few seconds. When he came back, she had wrapped her arms around him and was gently repeating her motions on his back. He hugged her back and chuckled, a bit winded. He’d heard that doing it yourself and having someone else do it for you was completely different, and he hadn’t expected how true it would be.

 

Neither said anything for a long while, drifting on the feel of the other and resting under the heavy quilt of humid air and the smell of perspiration and bodily fluids. “We could use a shower,” he told her quietly, finally, loath to break the silence and address even some facet of reality. This was the most relaxed and at peace he’d ever felt before, flat against her and quickly getting hooked to the feel of her soft skin and long hair. Coming out of that cocoon to go back to the world wasn’t on his ‘to do’ list. But it wasn’t a bad idea, given how messy they’d made each other.

 

“I suppose,” she murmured with a silly little smile. “If we have to.”

 

“Are you feeling alright?”

 

She looked him with half-lidded eyes and nodded slowly. “Mmmmm, perfect. You’re very creative.”

 

“I’m flattered,” he replied, trying for amused but falling short. Because Amagi Yukiko, laying on her side, naked, and watching him like he was the only thing in her world that mattered was a very hard thing to pull himself away from. And when he tried, she tightened her hands around his arms, eyes imploring even while her smile was naughty and teasing. “Were you looking for another performance right now?” he asked, settling forward and resting his hand on the side of her breast, slowly moving his thumb along the curve.

 

The look she gave him told him it was a very serious consideration, but she let him go after a few seconds. “Hmmm, no. I guess we do need a shower.”

 

Souji nodded and rolled away to get to his feet, feeling her gaze on his body through every movement and sure he could hear an appreciative sigh as he reached the door, but when he looked back, she was resting where she lay.

 

He made it across the hall and opened the door to the bathroom, twisting the shower knobs and adjusting the temperature until it was on the warm side of cool, just how he liked it. While the spray increased, his mind replayed everything he and Yukiko had done, and when he came back to reality he was smiling in the mirror. And seeing his own reflection suddenly felt odd. He was mostly indifferent toward his own body, aside from the harsh scars that usually pushed his eyes away whenever he looked at the in the mirror. But when he saw the nail marks his girlfriend had left on his shoulders and arms, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. She had been as fascinated by him as he was with her, and that was saying somethi–

 

Souji almost jumped out of his skin when a woman’s hand brushed against his shoulder, however, and spun clumsily to see Yukiko behind him. Still naked. With her hair around her like a curtain. Looking past him at the shower with an unreadable expression on her face.

 

He let out a hard breath, trying to control his heart rate and let out the tension she inspired in him, but the little smile on her face, the look in her eyes as she turned her gaze on him, and how she widened her stance a little, showing she wasn’t about to turn around, stopped him in place. And fired up his heart, and a few things a bit lower, for a different reason entirely.

 

“When you said we could use a shower, you meant both of us together, didn’t you?” she inquired slowly, looking at him with those deep, dark eyes and drawing him in until he nodded and reached out a trembling hand to her own, and pulled her toward him as he stepped back.

 

It was more than an hour later when they were back in his room, a towel around his waist and another around her chest while she sat across his lap. One of her arms was around his neck, the other against his chest, her breathing low and even while he stroked her back and up and down her bare legs, teasing the hem of her towel every now and again. The day had grown even hotter, and the musky air in his room was starting to make the drowsy.

 

“Will that do?” he inquired, a low hum past her ear that ended in a chuckle. He’d never run the shower out of hot water before, but when Yukiko was quivering around his fingers and moaning his name like that, such small details didn’t matter as much.

 

She nodded and gave a quiet, happy purr. “Very much so. I’ll make sure we have time to do this again.” She looked up at him through her long, dark eyelashes. “So long as you don’t mind.”

 

Souji chuckled. Where had the shy girl from before gone? “I’ll make the time.”

 

“Good,” she told him past a long yawn.

 

He ran hand through her hair, still damp and heavy across his fingers. “Get some rest,” he told her. “I’ll wake you up before they get home.”

 

“Just a short nap,” she insisted before resting against him. And in only a few minutes, her breathing leveled out and she slumped against him.

 

She really was something, he marveled to himself. It wasn’t fair how she could be so sexy one minute and then heart-stoppingly adorable in repose, long lashes touching her cheeks and hair starting to curve in on her fine-boned features beautiful enough to stop time when he looked at them.

 

And even after everything they’d done for and with and to each other today, there was still that satisfaction from being near her. The desire to stay with her, no matter what else got in the way.

 

He bounced that idea around his head as he stared at the TV across his room, not really seeing it. With his girlfriend in a towel, close as they wanted to be, he knew that he didn’t want to let her go, and how short the towel was on her had nothing to do with it. A few ideas came to the front of his mind as he thought it over, and he set the alarm on his cell phone as he rested back to think on it all in case he fell asleep.

 

Within ten minutes, he was out like a light, his arms still linked around her waist and his cheek resting on her freshly-washed hair.

 

\---

****

**_July 4 th_ **

 

Dojima Ryotaro was becoming increasingly convinced that there was a certain mindset corporate business people, no matter how tight or loose their collars were, that made them think they were better than everyone around them. Citizens, customers, co-workers, CEOs, it never made a difference. Every time he called Izumi at work now, he had to calmly explain to some new sneering lickspittle why he was on the phone. Pulling his badge and rank had worked the first few times, but either the old secretary was absent or had been fired because the new guy answering her phone only had to pick it up before Dojima wanted to pull his record and make his life hell.

 

Repeated explanations, being cut off and left on hold, and finally getting transferred only to catch her cell phone’s voice mail, he let out a few calming breaths, which didn’t work, before he began. “Izumi. It’s Ryotaro. I haven’t heard from you since before Souji came back here and he’s going to university soon. What’s going on? If there’s a problem between you and him, fine, but the least you can do is return my messages. I doubt he’s told you about the girl he’s seeing, so I’m sending you a photo of her. We need to talk. Now. Call me.” He jammed a few more buttons, his temper fraying when he thought of how familiar her pre-recorded message was becoming, and snapped his phone shut with a fist.

 

He was still glaring out the sliding doors, deaf to the chirping of cicadas, when he heard the floorboards creak behind him. Souji, usually as quiet as a cat stalking the day’s catch, turned the corner from the hall. “Sorry if I interrupted,” he told Dojima quietly. “I thought you were done your conversation.”

 

“I am,” Dojima replied bluntly, tossing his cell phone to the living room table and sitting back into the couch with a long sigh. “I was trying to get in touch with your mother.”

 

Souji stared at him, whatever he was about to say completely cut short. That impassive façade descended over his features like it always did at the mention of his parents. “Might I ask why?”

 

How had she let it come to this? Dojima wanted to give his sister the benefit of the doubt, withhold judgment until he had all the facts, but that was hard to do when Souji’s expressions spoke so clearly about the state of their family and Izumi wasn’t returning his calls. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her,” he explained finally, “and the least I can do is try to keep in touch with her. Why the hesitation? Still not talking to them yourself?”

 

“I left her a message after I finished my university exams,” Souji replied, his face as level as the surface of a desk. “There’s nothing else to discuss, really.”

 

Dojima kept the nature of his phone call to his sister to himself. “Not even Amagi or what university you’re attending? They’d be proud if they heard about that.”

 

“Especially not those. The last thing I need is my father getting involved with my life now. He wouldn’t know where to start at this point and would probably tell me to make him more business connections while I’m here.”

 

Dojima closed his eyes and shook his head. “Stubborn, aren’t you?”

 

“I come by it honestly,” his nephew shot back with part of a smile.

 

“Hmph. Can’t argue with that. What did you need? You seem like you wanted to talk about something.”

 

And as soon as the words were out of his mouth, that desk broke into splinters under a wrecking ball. Souji stepped back, blushed, and paled all at once. Then he scratched the back of his head. “Uh, right. About that.”

 

Dojima’s eyebrows raised as he saw something that would have been worth a snapshot if he’d expected it. Seta Souji, one of the most stable people he’d met of any age, was nervous. Genuinely nervous, shifting his feet and playing with the end of his coat and avoiding his gaze like he’d never done even when he was in the chair of an interrogation room.

 

“I need some money,” he said finally after taking a few steadying breaths and threading his fingers together to keep them from moving. “I wouldn’t ask normally, but I want to get something that I can’t cover on my own.”

 

Now Dojima’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Souji might not have shown his nerves very much, but he’d never asked for money in the whole time he’d been in Inaba. Part time jobs and playing it smart had seen him through almost an entire year without the topic ever coming up.

 

“I’ll pay you back when I can,” Souji continued a little quickly, eyes not meeting Dojima’s, “but it’s not something I can ask the others for. Yosuke and Kou are saving up for living expenses, and… well, it’s just not an option.”

 

Dojima was silent for a moment. “Budget restrictions?” the detective asked finally. “Or are you genuinely tapped out?”

 

“The former,” Souji told him. “It’s for something I wasn’t expecting to need to buy, and the cost is a bit steep for what I have in mind.”

 

“What is it? It’s not like you to need a handout.”

 

Souji deflated a little under the man’s question. “I don’t suppose I can ask for the money and not say what it’s for, can I?”

 

Now Dojima was especially curious. “That would be irresponsible of me,” he replied, leaning forward inquisitively while his detective’s instincts were breaking down every word and gesture his nephew said and made. “I trust you, and I know you won’t waste it anything stupid, but what’s so important that you need the money but can’t talk about it?”

 

Still the younger man hedged, shifting in place. “It’s… important. And sentimental.”

 

“I thought you gave Amagi something when she graduated. You shouldn’t spoil her, Souji,” Dojima advised while standing up from the couch.

 

“It’s not… Well, I…” Souji ran his hands over his face with a frustrated growl, taking a few moments to collect this thoughts. When he looked across the room, a little imploringly, the hope faded as soon as he saw the detective’s level stare. “You’re not going to let me out of this, are you?”

 

Dojima shook his head before cocking an eyebrow, the question clear. “I’d rather not, no. Is it such a big deal that you can’t tell me?”

 

Souji watched him, a long, heavy silence resting between them until his shoulders slumped and he told Dojima, clearly and concisely, if lacking in enthusiasm, what he wanted the money for.

 

That silence doubled for the two seconds it took for the words to sink in. then Dojima’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?” he asked, breath holding in his chest.

 

“Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t,” the new high school graduate muttered back.

 

The silence shattered. Dojima began to laugh uncontrollably, backing up until he fell onto the couch, a hand resting on the cushion while the other slapped his knee in mirth. Souji’s put-out expression, when he saw it, only prolonged the man’s chortles.

 

“What’s so funny, Dad?” Nanako asked, coming down from her bath. Despite being the middle of summer, she was wrapped up to the ears in the fluffy pink bath robe she’d gotten for Christmas, complete with her bunny slippers.

 

“Nothing,” Dojima told her, compressing his humour into chuckles and waving the question off. “Souji was just telling me about his visit with his friends. How about you get ready for bed and I’ll tell you a story? We’re almost done here.”

 

“I’m not a little kid any more, Dad,” Nanako insisted, indignant and with her fists on her hips. “You don’t have to read me those books anymore.”

 

“But uncle Dojima wants to tuck you in,” Souji cut in, almost no sign of his previous consternation on his face as he looked down to his cousin with a smile. “He doesn’t get to do it that often, so he likes it when you let him. Is that alright, Nanako?”

 

Her eyes went to her father, then back up to her Big Brother as she put the pieces together. “Ohhh, so I should do it for Dad? Okay then. I’ll be waiting, Dad. Don’t take too long. Good night, Big Bro.” And she turned toward her room, stopping long enough to cover up a yawn that stretched her face to its limits before sliding her door open and disappearing.

 

Dojima rose to his feet and stretched, creaking and cracking the whole way up. “Make sure she has your contact information. She’ll drive herself up the wall if she can’t get in touch with you. And about the money – you’re not only going to talk to me about this, right? That’s not something you can just keep to yourself.”

 

“I’m not,” Souji replied with a heavy sigh. “I have a meeting with them in a couple days to take care of that angle.”

 

“Good. Ignoring them is the last thing you’d want to do.” He gave some thought of his nephew’s plight if such a faux pas did occur, the phone calls he would be receiving, and gave another extended chuckle.

 

“It wasn’t that funny,” Souji grumbled, staring at him reproachfully.

 

“No, it isn’t. Sorry, sorry, that was just the last thing I was expecting.” Dojima’s eyes glinted cannily just then. “And the timing… it’s no surprise now, is it?”

 

His nephew glanced and him blankly, aiming for ignorance but unable to keep the blush down. “Not sure what you mean.”

 

This time, Dojima let it go. He’d had enough fun for the evening, and there was still a lot of planning to be done. He crossed the room and shrugged. “Fair enough. You and her are above the legal age and you don’t need me reading you the Riot Act. And you’ve both been a lot happier lately, so I guess it’s none of my business.” Souji looked up as he passed, nodding once. “Let me know how much you need and I’ll get it to you. We’ll discuss the smaller details whenever you can.”

 

Souji gave an audible sigh as Dojima went to see to Nanako. “Thanks,” he murmured, heading back to his room for the night.

 

“What was that about, Dad?” Nanako asked him from her futon, dressed in her pajamas with her hair out of their usual ties and eyes glistening in the gloom.

 

Dojima sat on the floor next to her, marveling for a moment how much she looked like Chisato, so serious even about the small things. “You’ll see,” he told her, smiling to himself as she pouted and protested. “Give it some time and you’ll see.”

 

\---

****

**_July 9 th_ **

 

Yosuke had told him once that there were too few places to hang out in Inaba. Junes, the shopping district, the floodplain and maybe the school, but when everyone had the same idea and hit those places up, privacy became a rare commodity. To Souji, that just meant that each place had more memories and associations to go with it. More crowded and greater chance for a crossover of positive and negative  experiences, maybe, but that he had so many memories of Inaba in the first place was a blessing given his transient past. The mountain paths with Chie, the shrine with Yukiko, and the hill overlooking the town with the daycare kids, they all stood out like full-colour beacons in a mind so used to concrete grey and artificial lights.

 

The hill was their location of choice, he and Yukiko and Nanako, for lunch as the teens were wrapping up their university plans while Nanako had been at a loose end, prompting Yukiko to invite her along. After short stop at Junes (which had been lengthened a little by Nanako’s desire to sing along with the iconic tune and say ‘Hello’ to Yosuke and Teddie) for supplies, the trio had come to the hill for an out-of-doors meal. Nanako had been as bright and bubbly as ever, though Souji was forced to do some very fast talking when she’d inquired about ‘what you and Dad were talking about before’ while Yukiko watched curiously.

 

Beyond that, however, they talked over the _click_ of chopsticks about Nanako’s summer break and the goings on of Inaba and caught up on the gossip among their friends, like how Chie and Kou were studying together and seemed to be making progress, or how Naoto’s commissions from Tatsumi Textiles had spurred on talks among her colleagues in the police department regarding quality clothing. Simple, harmless, and remarkably normal conversation for a couple who had met during a murder investigation.

 

They’d gotten together several times since their weekend together, but this was the first time their shared time had been for conversation and taking in the sun-swept scenery. Most of their visits had involved further ‘explorations’ in his room.

 

Once their meal was done, Souji handed Nanako his phone and she called a friend of hers to make future plans, oblivious to the older pair next to her. Once his cousin was thoroughly occupied, he pulled insistently on Yukiko’s hand until she rose from the table and followed him to the rail near the edge of the cliff. Him on the left, her on the right, and his naked hand and fingers entwined with hers as they looked out over the town.

 

“Yosuke finally got his acceptance papers,” Souji started calmly. “He was accepted into Bunkyo University for an open-studies program.”

 

“And Kou-kun is going to Tama University,” Yukiko told him. “Chie was talking about it the other day after one of their dates.”

 

Souji had known that his friend would be getting into some school in Fujisawa, just not which one. The three of them had already found a large apartment to share, courtesy of a few of Kou’s connections and a couple phone calls to Rise, who was quivering with excitement on the phone that they would be living near Tokyo again. “A private school suits his pedigree. Not his image, maybe, but definitely his name. By the way, Kyoto U, huh?” he asked while stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “Classy, traditional, and the centre of _ryokan_ in Japan. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Then a grin spread across his face. “Will you pick up the dialect? Answer the phone in _Kamigata-go_?”

 

“I don’t think it will get that bad,” she replied with a returned smile, sidling up next to him. “But it will be a change of pace from here. I only saw the temples and malls when my parents and I went there, not the universities. New places and people to meet, and we’ve never done much traveling before. But you’re practically going back home; it’s not really fair.”

 

He gave a playful snort. “Kyoto has some history and culture. They haven’t sold out the Imperial Palace or pawned off everything in the museums yet. Tokyo and Fujisawa can’t say the same; it’s hard to call highways and skyscrapers historic.”

 

She shook her head and turned to look at his face. “You say that, but that doesn’t change why you’re going there. Keio University? The most prestigious economics institution in the country? You passed the entrance exams on the first try and you don’t seem very proud of it.”

 

“I’m still recovering from the cram sessions,” he admitted. “Not to mention the questions they threw at us. Advanced economics is easy, but some parts of that test didn’t make any sense no matter what language they were trying for.”

 

She didn’t say anything, moving closer and tightening her fingers around his. Something was bothering her. Her lips were tilted at the corner and her eyes narrowed and widened incrementally as she thought something through, considering and dismissing alternatives and deciding on her words. Souji was content to watch her and wait.

 

“Why did you make that choice?” she asked finally, breaking the silence. “Economics and finances are what you are good at, and I don’t think even Kou-kun’s family knows more on the subjects than you do, but I didn’t expect you to pursue them in your education. I thought…”

 

“That it would be too close to what my parents do for me to do it professionally,” he finished for her, falling quiet after he did. He felt his shoulders sink a little, thoughtful and a little distant as it was his turn to come up with the answers. “You’re not wrong,” Souji murmured finally, leaning over to her so she could hear him better. “And it wasn’t my first choice. But much as it might remind me of my parents, it’s something I know. And something I know I can use.” He chuckled distantly, staring out over the town. “I could’ve become a teacher like Teddie or a manager for one of the companies here, but that would feel like reinventing the wheel or starting from scratch and avoiding something important. And I can use it to help you in running the Inn a lot more than something like practical sciences.”

 

She pulled back as soon as he finished those words, staring at him with a mix of concern and directness that demanded he listen. “Don’t make this about me, Souji. It’s your life, and I don’t want you to do something that you hate just because–“

 

He held up a hand to halt her words, looking at her calmly. “I’m not. I gave it some thought, and it’s something I have to overcome at some point or another. If I keep avoiding anything that reminds me of my parents, I’ll never get anywhere.” He gave a soft snort. “I’d probably never look at another stock channel on TV ever again either. Or even monthly bills. The point is that this is a challenge for me, and I don’t think I’ll get another chance at it if I don’t do it now. At least not one this convenient. And there’s always a chance that I’ll learn something that I hadn’t expected or thought of before.”

 

“So will you call your parents while you’re there?” she asked. From the tilt of her head and the look in her eye, she figured that she knew the answer already, but wanted to see if his feelings had changed.

 

And the level look he gave her communicated that they most definitely hadn’t. “Overcoming my aversions doesn’t mean I’ll start talking to them,” he informed her. “That’s a very different matter.”

 

“Alright,” she conceded, stepping close and wrapping her arms around his waist. The familiar feel of his shirt and muscles made her heart flutter, sending her nerves atremble like they had since that day in his room. Much as she wanted to lose herself in the memory, however, their impending future quickly stole her attention. The weekend loomed in her mind, closing in like night. “I’m going to miss you,” she whispered, hugging him tighter.

 

His arms closed around her, strong and soft and warm. “We haven’t left yet,” was his reply, just as quiet. “And I’ll help you get set up before we head to Fujisawa. You’d better not spend the rest of the week worrying about that.”

 

“I won’t, but it doesn’t make it any easier,” she told him with her face buried in his chest, lungs full of his clean, strong scent. “It feels like we’ve spent more time apart than together since the murders ended. We’re not going to know what to do with each other when we’re able to live together.”

 

That got a chuckle out of him and one of his hands stroked up and down her back. “We’ll make it work, Yukiko. We have before, and we will again. One step at a time. And Fujisawa and Kyoto are closer than Inaba and Kofu. We’ll be able to visit on weekends and meet for holidays, so much so that we’ll probably get sick of each other.”

 

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” she accused with a smile, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. She never got tired of looking into them, from their humour to their intellect to that unique colour that was just _him_.

 

“Of course I am,” he told her with absolute confidence and a wry smile. “Give it a few weeks and I’ll be a wreck without you. I might even break down and cry in Kyoto before I can make it onto the train.”

 

“I’ll take pictures and send them to Nanako-chan if you do.” She smiled, feeling her worries lessen enough that she let out a long breath. “But we will get together whenever we can.”

 

“Of course we will. But, come on. Let’s head to the river. It’s a lot better than dwelling on things, right? And we still have some time before we have to go.”

 

\---

****

**_July 13 th_ **

 

Despite Souji’s assurances, however, the week passed far too quickly. He was occupied with living arrangements and last-minute class details and news about the job he’d gotten through the university while she had to run the Inn and see to packing. Neither of those would have been a problem, but it felt like every time she had a free moment, one of the Inn staff would find her and say their farewells. As would the delivery people who’d been supplying them since she was Nanako-chan’s age, their regular customers, vendors in town, and even friends she’d made at school. The days flew by, every minute was taken up, and even her late-night phone calls to Souji were little more than status reports before well-deserved sleep.

 

So when _that_ day came, it was with a mix of _déjà vu_ and resignation. Everyone at the train station, bags and packages waiting to be loaded, and the sense of leaving home once again. Only Souji wasn’t alone this time. Yosuke, Kou, Chie, and, of course, Yukiko were coming along with him, sharing the same ride to Kyoto so the guys could help the girls unpack and get set up before heading to Fujisawa. Naoto and Kanji were there of course, dressed in their usual light summer clothes and wearing smiles as they said their farewells.

 

“Be sure to keep in contact, Senpai,” Naoto told him, her new summer wardrobe light and airy and obviously comfortable despite looking very much the same as what she always wore. “I might need your help next year to decide on which university I will attend.”

 

Souji gave a light chuckle, watching a familiar jeep roll up and hearing a door fly open almost before it came to a stop. “I will, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. You have things under control here, it seems, so I can trust you with the others.”

 

She gave a familiar chuckle. “Teddie and Nanako-chan will miss you, of that there is no doubt, but they should do fine if you regularly contact them as well.”

 

He looked over at Kanji, who was busy talking to Chie and Kou, for a long moment before looking back at her with a suggestive little smile. “Of course. They were who I meant,” he drawled, smiling wider when her eyes widened and she blushed rather prettily.

 

“S-senpai, what are you implying?!” she demanded, stepping back a little.

 

All he could do was chuckle and wave off her chagrin. Yosuke was right; even after the odd pair had come so far, it was still fun to push Naoto’s buttons. “Nothing, Naoto. Nothing at all. Just do what comes naturally and you’ll be fine.”

 

He might have continued with her if not for the rapid pattering of feet, like rain drops on concrete, that swiftly approached him. He had enough time to turn and see Dojima before Nanako, a brown and pink and white streak, crashed into his stomach, arms wrapping around him like the tentacles of an especially anxious octopus that nearly pushed him back a step. “You’re getting a bit big for that, Nanako,” he told her under his breath.

 

“We made it!” she declared into his chest. In the year and half since the murder investigations had ended, she’d grown like a weed and was hardly the child who hid behind her father when he’d met her.

 

“We got held up by a hit-and-run on the way here,” Dojima explained as he came up the steps. “Took longer than we expected.”

 

“Dad stayed there the whole time to get information and ask questions.” Instead of sounding proud or simply telling him, there was more than a hint of accusation in her voice.

 

Souji and Naoto shared a look and chuckled. “It’s not that bad, Nanako,” her cousin told her. “We aren’t leaving for a while yet.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” she replied immediately.

 

The two males shared a long-suffering look and wry smiles at the girl’s response. “Take care, Dojima.” Souji held his hand out, patting Nanako’s shoulder as she tightened her arms around him.

 

His uncle shook his hand firmly, giving a quick grin. “Look after yourself. And don’t worry about the interest. We’ll keep things nice and informal.”

 

Souji blushed a bit and nodded. Nanako didn’t seem to notice, content to hang onto her cousin, but Naoto looked at him curiously. “Interest? You aren’t the sort to need to borrow money, Senpai.”

 

“It’s a long story,” he replied quickly.

 

“And he won’t tell anyone what it means,” Nanako complained, finally pulling away with a distinctly put-out expression on her face, lower lip pushed out and shoulders set in a huff.

 

“I’ll tell you soon enough,” he promised with a smile, brushing her chin up with a knuckle. “And you have to look after Naoto here while I’m gone. Make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”

 

The detective took the ribbing in good spirits this time, with a smile and a roll of the eyes. “That’s hardly necessary,” she objected, but nodded once to Nanako when the girl looked over questioningly.

 

“Come on,” he told them, stepping back a bit. “The others will want to see you too.”

 

And they did. Yukiko and her parents, Yosuke saying his farewells to his family, Teddie getting in as much time as he could, and everyone’s luggage piled near the edge of the train platform. When Nanako went up to her Big Sis, she only waited long enough to make sure she had Yukiko’s attention before hugging her around the stomach and saying something Souji couldn’t hear. It was enough that Yukiko smiled and crouched down to talk to the girl, under the doting eyes and smile of Ryoko. Katsushiro, of course, stared hard at Souji, though there was a touch of respect there now. Souji gave a small, polite bow in return and looked to the others.

 

Yosuke’s grin was infectious, laughter abounding as he said his goodbyes and cuffed Teddie for something. Chie was talking to her parents, blushing, and Kou was talking to Daisuke and a few people Souji had never seen before, probably his parents or family. There was a split-second where the basketball captain’s eyes met Chie’s and the air charged between them, a strong but subtle flicker of something that passed too fast to name. Then it was gone, and she was getting back pats from her father, a towering brown-haired bear of a man whom Souji still couldn’t believe was Japanese, and calm words from her mother, a woman of average height but with the readiest smile and eyes sharper than a lioness’s. It was no surprise that Chie and Yukiko had become as close as sisters – their parents seemed the sort to be just as close.

 

Kou was enduring the advice of his parents and grandparents, all sharply dressed and proper compared to his casual t-shirt and jeans. Despite that, he felt like he belonged there, and they made his inclusion in their family clear, even with the little girl younger than Nanako in his mother’s arms. His new sister, it seemed. Either way, his usual smile was in place though every now and again his eyes would flicker over to Chie, that unreadable something in his eyes evident only for a moment before he looked back to his family.

 

Souji’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile. Interesting.

 

“Everything’s been worked out?” Dojima asked, stepping up beside his nephew and folding his arms, watching as Nanako laughed with Teddie.

 

“As much as it can be,” Souji replied. “Hopefully it all works out until we get to Fujisawa. After that, well, we’ll handle the problems as they come.”

 

“That’s unusual for you, expecting problems this soon,” Dojima noted, looking over. “Trouble?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Souji responded slowly. “There’ve been more complications with my job status and scholarships, and no one I talk to seems to know what’s going on. It seems like it’s a clerical error, but it’s happening after I got everything approved. Maybe some in-person talks are all I need to handle it. I’m not sure.”

 

“Let me know if I can help,” his uncle told him firmly, tapping his shoulder with a fist. “Don’t drop off the map, even if you are working and studying.”

 

“I’ll keep in touch,” Souji promised.

 

“Sensei!” Teddie called from down the train platform. “Nana-chan wants pictures bearfore everyone escapes to the big cities for adventures and bank heists and drag races! No photo’s a photo without Sensei!”

 

Souji raised his hand in acknowledgement, checking the time. More than half an hour remained before their train arrived. “Seems like I’m being summoned,” he murmured to the detective. “Care to join us?”

 

The Investigation Team piled together in front of their luggage as the pictures began. Nanako took a few, with Yukiko’s help, of Souji and Dojima while Yosuke’s family got a variety of poses from their son. Yukiko and her parents were next, then Chie and hers, and on and on. “Alright!” Yosuke called with a grin. “All the Inaba misfits get together for a group snapshot!” He looked off to the side and grabbed Kou by the arm. “Rise’s not here, so you’ll have to fill in, Ichijo,” was all he said before he shoved him toward Chie. No one could make too big a fuss, including the blushing pair, because Dojima started giving orders on who had to go where and how they should stand. Much like when Souji left, they managed with what Teddie called a ‘bear minimum’ of problems, switching the order until everyone was satisfied and the train’s whistle approached. The five who were leaving collected their effects, Souji with the least number of bags, and the final farewells began.

 

“Keep in touch, Senpai,” Naoto told him with tip of her cap. “And thank you for everything.”

 

“Anytime, Naoto,” he told her, turning to shake hands with Kanji.

 

“Like she said, Senpai. Don’t be a stranger.” The towering teen cleared his throat a little. “And, uh, if I need some things I can’t get here, well, you think you could help me out?”

 

“Be glad to,” Souji assured him. “Take care.” And so it went. Ai, Daisuke, and most of his friends from school and around town wanted a last word or handshake. The last one in line, just before he boarded the train after the others, was Nanako, whom he knelt to embrace and have her willowy arms wrap and tighten around his neck like a steel collar. “Easy, Nanako,” he told her softly, patting her back. “I’ll be back when I can.”

 

“But it’ll only be for a while,” she protested.

 

“Until I’m done school again,” he promised. “Then I’ll be back for good, and around so much you’ll get sick of me.”

 

“I don’t think that’ll happen,” Dojima tossed in, slowly taking his daughter back with a smile. “Safe travels.”

 

“Thanks.” Souji gave a last salute to him, and all the others, before turning and boarding the train a few minutes before it lurched forward.

 

“Kyoto-bound, at last,” Yosuke said expansively from his seat as they put their bags and luggage away in the half-full train. He’d wasted no time in striking up a conversation with Chie that was quickly promising to become a shouting match. Kou and Yukiko were talking quietly across the aisle and a few seats back, pausing enough for Souji to slip past his girlfriend and take a seat, already turning the pieces of his new move around in his mind.

 

As he looked at the seat in front of him, he began planning their group’s stay in Kyoto. Chie and Yukiko would be moving into the dorms with help from Souji and Kou and Yosuke, if he could be talked into helping, and they would spend a few days taking in the sights before Souji and the guys headed to Fujisawa.

 

He sighed. Another move, another strange room, and years of schooling before he could move forward with his life. Even though he was moving as fast as he could, it still felt stifling, aggravating that there was no other way around it.

 

Yukiko seemed to tune into his mood and leaned against him, gently kissing his neck when the others weren’t looking and snuggling into his side with a pleased little sigh.

 

He laughed to himself, tilting his head over to pull in the scent of her hair. Leaving her wasn’t going to be easy either, and he hoped that he had the opportunity to get in as much of Kyoto with her as possible before he left. Enough to make some lasting memories.

 

There was still time, though. He had some time.

 

\---

**_July 15 th_ **

****

_7:33am_

Kyoto hadn’t changed much. Of course, what Souji remembered of Kyoto was hotel lobbies and air-conditioned rooms and the cherry blossoms that had seemed droopy and sad during his last visit. The museums were still there, the _ryokan_ still did great business, and people and car traffic everywhere he looked. In that sense, it should have been reassuring. People and businesses meant money and resources, _ryokan_ meant Yukiko could learn a lot from first-hand sources, and Kyoto U was every bit as expansive and impressive as he’d heard.

 

But the scenery was the last thing on his mind now. There was a garden right outside the window and he didn’t even see the branches or the blossoms or the birds among them.

 

_7:36am_

As he rested in Yukiko’s room, her sleeping right next to him, he wished he could find that confidence from before. He’d felt so sure that he could make things work with Yukiko despite the distance, and there was nothing new to get in his way. But that didn’t stop the fear, the growing, wriggling worm of anxiety in his heart that made him touch his sleeping girlfriend to make sure she was still there. The tension that had him watching, with mounting apprehension, the clock on his phone was every minute meant another minute closer to his departure time. To him leaving for Fujisawa the next day.

 

She was right: he was afraid. He didn’t want to be apart from her, not when seven months had passed so quickly that it felt like the first frost was yesterday. His bravado was gone, his confidence nowhere to be found, and all he wanted was to hug Yukiko and never let her go, to transfer here or skip school or do something that meant he didn’t have to leave her again. It was amazing to him how central she’d become in his life, how he sought her out just to feel as normal and in control as everyone thought he usually was.

 

That had been his anchor before, and she became his foundation. And he was leaving again, he thought with a harsh breath.

 

_7:42am_

 

Maybe they should go to a museum, or walk along a forest trail. Kyoto had them, and he owed her a visit from their interrupted time in Kofu. Or he could take her out for breakfast, see the restaurants and go shopping for souvenirs. He could get something for himself too, a momento to connect them.

 

That caught his attention, and he sat up as the thought rolled around his head. A momento. Something permanent. He walked over and checked his bags, making sure nothing had moved simply to do something, and he pulled on the chain that his friends had gotten him for graduation, carefully cleaning it. And when he looked deeper, he saw it, and the anxiety trembled in his heart again, rattling his breath. Before he could second-guess himself though, he grabbed it and slid it into his inside pocket before returning to his girlfriend’s side.

 

Yukiko rolled over just then, dressed in her loose yukata and shorts and pendant, and tagged her hand on his leg. The contact was enough to pull a groan from her as she pulled herself into consciousness. Sleep-hazed eyes found his for a few seconds before she began to move, careful as an unsteady kitten. “You’re nervous,” she noted as she blinked blearily, yawning behind her hand. Then she got a better look at him, in his usual dark jacket and slacks. “And already dressed.”

 

“I woke up early,” he told her, not addressing how well she read him while he brushed her hair back with a bittersweet pang to his heart. Just awake and mussed up, her hair in layers and anything but orderly, and she was still beautiful enough to make his nerves tingle. “I was hoping to make today interesting, so I got to thinking about where we could go.”

 

She let out a tired groan, stretching in place. “That sounds good. Did you think of anything?” she asked through another yawn.

 

“Actually, I did. I owe you a walk through the trees from before, so I thought we could kill the morning with that.”

 

Yukiko smiled after a moment, wiping at the dried saliva at the corner of her mouth. “I’d like that. I haven’t been to any trails in Kyoto before.”

 

Souji smiled and rolled off her bed, feeling better already. “Then get dressed and I’ll meet you at the doors. We can go out for breakfast and make a day of it.”

 

She gave a sleepy ‘Mm hm’ while she stretched again, kneeling and extending her arms until they popped. He could have watched every minute of her waking up without a thought of complaint, same as he could have watched her sleep for the whole night and been happy for it. But there were things to do and places to go, and she probably wanted her privacy first thing in the morning. He slipped from the room and headed down the hall to the entrance while the rest of the dorm woke up or bustled busily around him.

 

He got no shortage of looks from Chie and Yukiko’s dorm mates while he waited. Some of the guys who’d arrived to help their friends or girls move in made note of him, appraising or curious or polite, while the girls eyed him in passing. A few came up to introduce themselves, but referring to himself as ‘Amagi Yukiko’s boyfriend’ got him no small number of understanding looks. He probably did stand out a little, when he thought about it. Dark clothes and fingerless gloves, his chain necklace and pendant, silver hair and eyes, and he knew he was good looking. But his good manners and steady smile were enough to keep the conversations polite and stop from giving anyone the wrong idea. And it drew attention from how his fingers were drumming the wall he was leaning against.

 

The nervousness was back. His pulse kicked up and tripped over itself, spiking his breathing every now and again and sending hot flashes across his skin. It was a different kind of nervousness now. He’d been afraid in her room, not wanting to leave her. Now he even more tense for a different reason, so much so that he had barely gotten the address and directions to the area’s restaurants and where he wanted to take her before Yukiko appeared in front of him in her usual summer attire, red barrette setting off her lustrous black hair perfectly.

 

“Are we ready to go?” she asked with a smile.

 

“Y-yeah,” he replied, wincing as he tripped over his words. Great. They hadn’t even left her dorm and he was already letting his nerves get to him. “I found a few places where we can have breakfast before we see the trails.” Better. Now if only he didn’t feel so pale. Maybe she wouldn’t notice if–

 

“Did you sleep alright? You don’t look well,” she noted, concern in her voice as she laid the backs of her fingers against his face.

 

Nope. She definitely noticed. Well, he could manage things until–

 

He tripped. Actually _tripped_ and had to grab on to the wall to keep from crashing into her. He wanted to blame someone’s shoes or a raised step, but there was nothing at his feet except for smooth carpet without so much as a ridge.

 

He sighed. _Great_.

 

“I’m fine,” he assured her, looking up to her bewildered stare. “Just not on my game today.”

 

“Are you okay?” she inquired, a step back and the look of ‘this is really weird’ written across her face.

 

His pride taking blow after blow and his grace in smoking tatters, he smiled wanly. “Yep. Nothing wrong. Let’s head out before things get too busy.

 

She looked at him sceptically, but nodded and headed out as he held the door open.

 

His pulse leveled out a bit. At least he didn’t walk into the glass after she stepped onto the cement path. That she turned to check on him twice before they made it to the sidewalk, however, made him want to bury his face in his hands. It had to get better, or easier, or something from here.

 

He wasn’t sure if it did though. They went to a restaurant that Yukiko immediately loved because of the décor and menu, but he couldn’t remember what it looked like. Or what he had, or how it tasted. He must have gotten more things right than wrong, because she was smiling by the end of it when he just realized that their plates were empty and the smell of orange juice and Western pancake syrup was in the air. He paid the bill, hoping he got at least that right. The absence of any strange looks from the waitress was encouraging, as was getting a suitable amount of change.

 

But when he told her where they were going, then turned the wrong way as they left the restaurant, he felt his stomach fall to his feet and his full stomach just sort of turn off. He sighed, tried to ignore her cautious and puzzled looks, and walked next to her, thinking ahead of his nerves and focusing on getting them to their destination.

 

When they did, her expression immediately lit up. A mile-long trail through a park, covered over with the canopies of varicoloured Japanese maples. Deep crimsons and light greens and precious autumnal golds kept them in enough shade to cut the sun out and add some privacy, but the trial was wide enough for two cars to drive down side by side, so there was an openness that made the place feel like it was cut off from the rest of the city, a separate place in the world entirely. The river at the end of the trail, how the sounds of the cars were muffled by the leaves all around them, it was just like in Kofu.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Yukiko murmured, turning in place and staring at the colours. “You never see them in different seasons like this in Inaba.”

 

“They use different species and breeds to create the effect,” Souji told her, happy to have said one coherent thing so far. “Most of the trees around Inaba are wild growth.”

 

She nodded. “That makes sense. I think I have a new favourite place while I’m here.”

 

That brought a chuckle out of him. “Glad I could help.”

 

There was a long silence between them, familiar and comfortable as they looked at the trees and the river and the lack of people around them. He tried to find his words, hoping the serenity would help.

 

“Are you really alright?” she asked finally, turning and facing him. “You’ve been off ever since we left the dorm. Before that, even. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

 

“No, I’m… just nervous about something. It’s kinda related to me leaving tomorrow, but not really, and…” he trailed off and lost his words entirely. He _never_ did that, and felt like calling it a day after adding it to the list of things he never thought he could be so off-balance to do.

 

“I’m going to miss you too,” she assured him, still puzzled. “But this is bigger than that, isn’t it?”

 

Good. He could work with this. “Well, it is, but there’s something I wanted to ask you. But I’m not sure how you’ll take it, and it’s not the kind of thing I can just throw out there without… um… thinking it over.”

 

Gods, this was getting bad. She was going to phone it in if he kept this up. At least they were away from people and he wasn’t doing anything more suspicious than making a fool of himself.

 

“Alright, what did you want to ask me?”

 

“I…” He looked into her eyes, so caring and supportive and curious, and felt the words turn solid and lodge in his chest. He couldn’t say them, no matter what he tried. “I can’t do this,” he muttered to himself, stepping back a bit.

 

Yukiko looked perplexed, tense from his half-answers and nonsensical trip-ups. “Can’t do what? Souji, what’s wrong?”

 

“Close your eyes,” he told her simply.

 

“What?”

 

“Close your eyes. This is hard to say even without you looking so… you.” Cute, gorgeous, compassionate and stunning just by standing there and being her. It was tripping him up and there was nothing she could do about that – she didn’t even know what he wanted.

 

She touched her cheek and looked about to find her hand mirror when he said that. “There’s something wrong with how I look? You’re not making any sense.”

 

He glanced at her pleadingly, not caring that he was going completely off the cuff now. “Please?”

 

She was quiet for a moment, looking at him with a bit of concern and a lot of curiousity. “If you’re sure,” she acceded finally, leaning against the railing and closing her eyes. The bewilderment was still there, too – her lips were still pinched a little and her eyebrows downturned. There was also a tinge of frustration in her features, and he almost expected her to start tapping her fingers on the railing.

 

Even without that beautiful gaze on him, the words were still hard to find. But Souji took a few long breaths and began. “I wanted to give you something appropriate for us getting into university, but I wanted it to be special too. Something permanent, seeing as how we’re going to be,” he grimaced but kept going, “apart for a while. Something for us.”

 

Her eyes opened a little, a protest immediately ready. “You don’t need to give me–”

 

He cut her off with a finger to her lips, and a small, strained smile. “Yes, I do, but I’m not done yet. Come on, eyes closed.”

 

She stared at him again, not knowing where he was going or why, but did as he asked again. And Souji gently pulled her left hand up between them, stroking the back with his fingers.

 

“I’ve been thinking of this for a while,” he told her with a shuddering breath, nervous smile on his face even if she couldn’t see it. “And it’s not something I can make good on until we graduate. But I didn’t want to leave Kyoto without doing this.”

 

“Do what?” she asked quietly, features settled as she was ready to hear him out.

 

He reached into his pocket for what he’d taken out of his bag before and bit his tongue to get the words right. “You’re the most important person in the world to me, Yukiko. I don’t know if I’ve said it before, but you deserve to hear that. Living apart’s going to be hard, and I’m sure we’ll make it work out between classes and jobs and everything else. We can always visit during holidays, but…” he trailed off, biting his tongue. Dammit, the was getting off topic. He shifted his weight and kicked his mind into gear as best he could, and tried again. “But I want more than that,” he breathed out in a shaking voice. “More than assurances and hopes and phone calls. So I want to give you something. A promise.” He set the object in her hand, and she opened her eyes once he did, too curious to keep them closed.

 

She gasped, and froze, her free hand up to her chest.

 

“This is my promise, Amagi Yukiko. And when we’re done university and back in Inaba, however long that takes…” He was trembling now, but smiled softly at her expression, “when we have everything figured out and in line… will you marry me?”

 

She was staring solely at what he’d put in her hand. A small velvet box that revealed two thin rings when she opened it. Words failed her, though she opened her mouth several times. It was probably only a few seconds, but nothing had ever felt longer, more tense, to him.

 

“M… marry?” she choked out finally, staring at him with wide eyes that were tearing up at the corners. “You w-want to marry me?”

 

“When we’re done with all of this, yes,” he told her, not looking away from her. “More than I want anything else in the world.”

 

Her lips quivered, tears falling down her cheeks, as her hand rose to her mouth. Nothing came out while she looked at the rings resting in her shaking hand. The silence was starting to get to him, make him doubt, but she nodded once. Then she pulled the rings to her chest and held them tight, a wide grin on her face, nodding some more. “Yes,” she whispered, eyes brighter than the stars in winter. _“Yes!”_ she shouted before rushing him, arms around his chest and squeezing as tight as she could. “Yes, yes, yes I’ll marry you.”

 

The tension in Souji broke and crumbled to dust in a heartbeat. He hugged her back, hard as he could without holding back, lifting her off her feet as she laughed delightedly. Appropriate, because it felt like he was flying. Weightless, carefree, and happier than he could ever remember being. It was like a spring morning, waking up and feeling the sun’s rays and the wind on his face, brushing at his hair and feeling like anything was possible, his for the taking. Once he set her on her feet, she kissed his lips, cheeks, nose, and the rest of his face, peppering him with affection until he held the side of her face and kissed her, long and deep, pulling her tight against him as she did the same. There were no hormones this time, no teenaged drive to keep going regardless of where they were. Just marrow-deep contentment and love between them.

 

“Thank you,” he told her as they broke apart, chuckling a bit breathlessly. “I had no idea how to ask that, and nothing I looked at helped and…” and he was getting off topic again. “Thanks , Yukiko.”

 

“Of course,” she told him, hugging him close with one arm and holding up the rings with the other, marveling at them. “When did you get them? How long have you had them?”

 

“Not too long,” he replied, looking at them with her. “I had Daidara make them as a special order. It pushed things a bit given how long we had and the cost, but he said he felt inspired to make them as soon as I told him what I wanted. Here,” he whispered next to her ear, pulling out the smaller ring and holding it up for her to see.

 

Small and thin, it had a woven vine design so delicate and fine that is was hard to imagine the hard, gruff man making it in the first place. Worked in gold and so simple yet detailed, it was perfect, and perfectly set off by the trilliant-cut ruby in the mount. Yukiko broke into a silly smile as she held up her trembling left hand. Souji cleared his throat and slid it in her left finger, slowly so she could watch it happen, until it rested just above her knuckle. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, shifting the band back and forth and staring at the stone, how the facets caught and reflected the light until the stone seemed to burn from within. Then she looked back at the box and saw the other ring still sitting in place. “He made one for you too?”

 

“He said that guys should wear rings too, especially if they have a girl they’re proud to be engaged to,” Souji explained, recalling the intense look in the man’s eye when he said as much.

 

“Well, it’s your turn,” she told him, pulling the ring out and putting the box in his jacket pocket, gesturing impatiently until he chuckled and removed his left glove. His ring seemed out of place in her fingers, wider than hers, polished until it looked like platinum, and heavier with a simple small diamond set in the band. But as she slid it on his finger, it fit perfectly and suited his rougher skin and scars like it belonged there.

 

They smiled at each other, just now noticing that there were other people around them. Salarymen, students, passersby, but their private pocket was becoming a bit more crowded. Still, she stepped next to him and turned, holding up her left hand and his to compare the rings. Hers, fine gold and brilliant red, and his, sturdy silver and shining white. As different as she hands they rested on, her slender fingers dwarfed by his as she rested her palm to the back of his hand, covering up the scars. But when she closed her fingers between his, the rings rested against each other and looked like they truly belonged there.

 

“How did you get my size?” she asked as she compared them.

 

“Your mother told me. She said you didn’t wear rings very much, but helped me out a little after I talked to them about this.

 

Her eyebrows rose, surprise clear on her face. “You got her permission?”

 

“And your father’s,” he confirmed. “It wasn’t what I’d call easy, but it was my first step when I decided to ask you.”

 

**_Flashback_ **

****

**_July 6 th_ **

 

If Amagi Katsushiro’s stony silences and hard glares had been heavy and oppressive before, and they had been since Souji had first met the man, regardless of how little he let it bother him, the silence that settled in the room following his statement was heavier than a landslide.

 

As Souji had promised Dojima, he met with the Amagis only a few days after that night. Ryoko had been welcoming and cheerful, if preoccupied, and Katsushiro was as stony as ever. His curt ‘What do you need?’ had been as welcoming as a slammed door, but Souji hadn’t let it slow him down. Sitting across from them in the same room as where they’d been introduced, he waited until he found the right words and tried to assess their possible outcomes. Either way, no matter how he spun it or built it up, the words ‘I’m in love with Yukiko. And I’d like your permission, when we return from university and she is comfortable with running the Inn, to marry her’ had cut off any retorts and left them staring at him in what had to be the second-longest moment of his life.

 

“You… what?” Katsushiro choked out first.

 

“That’s a strong statement to make, Souji-kun,” Ryoko replied, much less surprised, or doing a far better job at masking it, compared to her husband. “And you seem sincere. But keep in mind that we are not in a position to simply give blessings to anyone who asks to marry Yukiko.” She gave a kind smile that, to Souji, resembled a fox looking down on a field mouse. “There are other matters to consider, after all.

 

Souji nodded. “Of course. What might those criteria be?”

 

“Well, the first thing that comes to mind is eligibility. If Yukiko wants to marry you, that’s certainly acceptable to me, but what if there are other suitors? More appropriate men in her life who can make her happy?”

 

And like a fox, she was toying with him. But Souji folded his hands together and kept his tone even. It wasn’t even her tone or mannerisms that were spiking his temper: it was the hard glare he was getting from Katsushiro that forced his teeth together. “That would be news to me, Ryoko-san, given that she’s never mentioned anyone else.”

 

“But it could happen,” Katsushiro told him bluntly. “You will be living separately for several years soon. Can you keep her happy in such a situation? Perhaps someone going to the same university would be more appropriate. Someone reliable and with a vested interest in her happiness.”

 

“So would an arranged marriage, if you’re concerned about promises and commitment,” Souji pointed out, ignoring that last comment despite how it tested his control. “Were you planning on arranging a marriage for her? If that’s the case, you’ve waited a very long time to do so. And she hardly seems the sort to accept that at this point, if you take my meaning. As to the long-distance relationship, we’ve done it before, and I won’t let things get between us.”

 

Her father snorted. “Those are easy words to say, Seta.”

 

The teen felt the force of the man’s disdain, and a cold anger rose up in response. “No, Amagi-san, they’re not,” Souji spat back with a glare. “Because they mean that I won’t be able to see her or be around her without a train ride to Kyoto, nor hear her in person except on holidays and after exams. There’s _nothing_ easy about what we’re doing, nothing fun about it. And that’s exactly why I will do everything I can to make sure that we don’t grow apart just because we aren’t living together.”

 

Ryoko’s expression remained the same, but now she was tapping a finger thoughtfully on the table surface. Katsushiro, on the other hand, gave a hard grunt and rose from his seat, heading past the table and for the door.

 

“Dislike me all you want, Amagi-san,” Souji called from where he was sitting in an unyielding voice, “but do not doubt how I feel for Yukiko. I wouldn’t ask this if I hadn’t thought it through, and I know that there are a lot of other circumstances to consider.” His tone eased up a little, still strong but not as hard. “But please remember that I know that those circumstances exist. I know we’re young to be considering it, which is why I won’t expect anything to happen until after we have gone as far as we want in university.” He turned to lock eyes with the older man. “If she wants to take more courses and further what she knows, then I will support her in every way that I can. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Make no mistake, I’m not so naïve as to think that we could make a marriage last while going to school in different parts of the country.”

 

“But you are thinking of what will happen after you both receive your degrees,” Ryoko added, her smile shifting from cunning to understanding.

 

Souji turned back to her, taking a few moments to thaw out his temper. “Yes, I am. This is too important to ask without taking everything into consideration. I wouldn’t play games with her feelings. Or with my own. So if I have to make ten-year plans and spend eight of those years reworking them to make sure she’s happy, you can bet the Inn that I will do it without a second thought.”

 

There was a long moment of silence before Ryoko looked to her husband with an expression Souji had never seen before. Granted, he hadn’t spent very much time around her, and he got the feeling that she could run circles around him in keeping secrets and playing mind games. But was that… approval?

 

“And if I refuse to give you my blessing?” Katsushiro asked from the door, breaking the moment.

 

The reply was a cold smile across Souji’s face that bordered on threatening. “Then I will stay here until I change your mind. I have all night, and all week if it comes to that.”

 

“And you think you’ll spend all that time here?”

 

Souji waited for a moment before rising to his feet and giving the man the cold, hard stare he normally reserved for Shadows. “I won’t leave without an answer, Katsushiro-san. And I’d rather not have to respond to you trying to force me out.”

 

“Trying?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“While that might make for a wonderful spectacle,” Ryoko cut in with the same calm, level tone as always, slowly rising from the table, “it would be counterproductive to your aims if things were carried that far, wouldn’t it, Souji-kun?”

 

“Yes, it would. But this is how seriously I take this matter, Amagi-san. I’m not going to neglect her or take her for granted, I won’t use her status to my advantage, and there is no one else in this world who means more to me.” He stared at her father, almost daring him to say something. When Katsushiro didn’t, Souji turned to Ryoko, who was wearing that same enigmatic smile as ever on her classically beautiful face. “That is the extent to which I love her. Leaving her alone and walking away is not an option, and there is nothing I won’t do for her. That is where I stand on this matter.”

 

Ryoko tapped the ends of her fingers together, pensive, or pretending to be, and watching him with those calm, calculating eyes. Finally, after several long moments, she smiled. And actually laughed, a genuinely happy sound that filled the room like a light autumn breeze. “If you swear to make her happy with the same determination you’ve shown us tonight, then you have my blessing. When you’ve returned to Inaba and she’s ready, of course.” She gave a small bow, no more than an inclination of the head, but it was plenty.

 

Katsushiro gave a hard grunt and looked away from him, but nodded as he did. “I agree. You’ve been less inconsistent than the others who have talked to us. If this is how strongly you feel for her, then make sure that you treat her well. If you do, then I won’t object to you asking her.”

 

Souji’s determination, feeling like the hardened face of a mountain, teetered over at those words. He was shocked and stunned and breathless all at once. He’d done it. He’d won them over. Months of fighting with her father and the tacit observations of her mother, and he’d finally gotten their approval, or at least their consent, when and where it really counted.

 

It was a relief, like pushing against the immovable wall that was her father’s disdain for him while remaining even more resolute to not be pushed away, only to have those forces cease entirely. He felt lighter. He was elated. He wanted to laugh, to cheer, to hug someone, and held the back of his hand to his face to contain his emotions as they ran wild inside him. He hadn’t felt this ecstatic since the day they’d defeated Izanami.

 

Words couldn’t come close to communicating what was rushing through his system at that moment. But there was something he could say, a start of a sliver of what he felt at that moment, and despite what he’d gone through to get this far, and indeed perhaps because of it, it was probably the best thing he could say just then.

 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

 

**_End Flashback_ **

 

“It took a bit of doing,” he admitted finally, “but we worked everything out in the end.”

 

“You got their permission,” she stated again in disbelief.

 

“Of course I did. That’s way too important to leave until after.” Souji chuckled. “And they would have killed me if I asked you without talking to them first. Your dad’s bad enough, but I really didn’t want to take chances with your mother.”

 

“I still can’t believe it,” she whispered, looking at the ring again with that same silly smile.

 

“Well, it seemed like the best time to do it.” He straightened his chain out and raised his eyebrows appraisingly, finally calmed down after an entire morning of fear and fretting. “Was it a good gift?”

 

She didn’t answer with words. Uncaring of who was watching or where they were, she took two steps forward and kissed him, her arms around his neck while his slid around her waist out of reflex. It was a warm, loving kiss, soft enough and deep enough that it told him everything he needed and wanted to know, and so softly intense that it took his breath away as she burrowed in closer. People whispered and murmured around them, and neither cared.

 

When she finally pulled back, leaving him breathing hard, she smiled, arms still around his neck, in such a way that froze his lungs even as he needed them. Her face was open, caring, and so genuinely happy, moisture at the corner of her eyes, that he knew precisely how she felt. It thrummed along his bones like sound waves and left him feeling dizzy, a single sentiment that burned in his mind like a flare in the night:

_I love you._

 

It was empowering, and uplifting, and humbling. It chased away his fear completely, and he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding back his words for now as his eyes stung. Neither knew how long they stood there, or how they looked. But it didn’t matter. They were there, together, at that moment.

 

And that was more than enough.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

“You’re going to have to take that off before we can get in the pool, you know,” Chie told her with a fond, exasperated smile. “Unless you want to wear it in, and I don’t think you want to risk losing it.”

 

Yukiko looked up in surprise and some embarrassment, pulling her thumb and middle finger away from twisting her ring for the fourth time that day. “Right. Sorry.” Her words were repentant, but it was impossible for her to keep the smile off her face as she looked down again, eyes soft as she gazed at the ruby in the ring and sighed happily.

 

But when Chie gave a ‘what can you do?’ shrug and walked toward the change room, Yukiko pushed off the stone wall and followed her, clothes bag in hand as the humidity got stronger the further in she went.

 

With classes starting soon, the pair had been busy planning out their routines and exploring the Kyoto U campus. When they learned there was an exercise building with an enormous swimming pool near their dorm, they bought their passes the next day and went to the facility for some lane time.

 

“Kyoto U’s known for their tradition and special management programs,” Chie noted as they changed before locking up their clothes and possessions, rolling her eyes as Yukiko stared at her ring once more before carefully closing the locker and tugging on it to make sure it was secure. “But this place is pretty impressive.” And it was. The change rooms and shower stalls were particularly spacious and there was a lot of natural lighting.

 

“A few years ago, Kyoto U and Tokyo University argued over who would have the funding for a new facility,” Yukiko explained as they began to shower, soaping up and soaping off swiftly as they talked. “I heard it was so they could decide where they would hold the summer Olympics. The arrangements didn’t work out, though, so they made it into an exercise and training center that’s top of the line. The brochure said there are treadmills and weight rooms upstairs if you wanted to use them,” Yukiko suggested.

 

Chie gave an unimpressed hum, running her hand through her dripping hair, her one-piece concealing the worst of her scars, though there were still jagged scratch marks along her left shoulder blade. Yukiko remembered her friend receiving those wounds, recalled her heart tripping over itself as she tried to focus past the noise and smoke and blood, tried to concentrate as her closest friend screamed in pain. “I’ll give it a look,” Chie told her with a shrug, heedless of the thoughts running through Yukiko’s mind. “I’ll take the pavement and trails over a machine, though.”

 

Yukiko smiled knowingly and followed her friend as she headed to the pool deck. The roof was a massive skylight of aluminum and glass, filling the building with bright summer light while chlorine and laughter were heavy on the nose and the ears. The pools, because there were two of them, were full-sized and sported floaters for the lane lines while the deck was covered with people of all ages. Some students, some adults, some swimming while others relaxed. Several guys their own age, maybe a little older, were talking with the ladies in the lounge chairs nearby, evidently hitting on them with mixed results. When a few of the guys looked their way, interest and speculation clear in their eyes, Chie nodded to the water and made her way to the edge, leaping in with a long, graceful dive before kicking forward and stroking fast to the opposite end. Yukiko followed suit in her own lane, though didn’t try racing against the martial artist. She didn’t have a swimming cap, after all, and the weight of her hair would slow her down. Instead she found her stride, or stroke, as it were, and kept her pace steady while thrilling in the burn of her muscles. The water was just right for swimming, cool enough to keep her from overheating, and she would have been grinning the whole time if she didn’t have to hold her breath.

 

Conversation was impossible as they swam for more than forty minutes, both breathing faster but not hard as they floated at the same end. “You’ve gotten better,” Chie noted as she treaded water, sometimes fast enough to rise out of the water, other times barely moving at all, but never content to just float.

 

“I haven’t been to a pool in years,” Yukiko admitted, breathing deep and pushing her hair back from her face. And it was a shame that she hadn’t. She’d loved swimming since childhood, starting off in the hot springs at the Inn and moving through the water like a fish when she’d been in lessons during school. It was something she’d put to the side as her responsibilities had grown, and she was realizing now how much she’d missed it.

 

“We’ll be in Kyoto for a while,” Chie pointed out, laughing and pulling herself onto the deck and sitting on the edge, followed by Yukiko. “Seems like a waste not to use it while we can, right?”

 

“Of course,” Yukiko returned with a smile, twisting her hair to squeeze the water out.

 

The slapping of wet feet approached them, and neither looked up on account of not knowing anyone except for the odd person in their dorm. “Sorry to interrupt,” a new woman told them from a few feet away, pulling their eyes upward, “but didn’t you two just move into the dorm across the way?”

 

Yukiko glanced up to the speaker, only to lose her words the moment she did. The first thing she noticed was the daring two-piece swimsuit, red and orange and yellow splashed across her chest and pelvis in a way meant to draw attention instead of divert it. The second thing was the tattoo reaching up the woman’s right side: rough-looking sakura branches with the buds about to flower, on which perched a real-as-life black and russet sparrow, its head tilted as it looked at a nearby cicada. It was hard to tell the woman’s hair colour since it was soaked through, but two green eyes caught hers and narrowed playfully, a smile crossing her lips that said _‘Ohh, do you like what you see?’_ Yukiko pulled back from the look, red in her cheeks.

 

“I remember you two,” she continued, pointing at them in recognition. “You had a guy with white hair help you move your stuff in,” the woman’s eyes narrowed in obvious interest, hand on her hip without reservation. “And there was another guy with blue hair who looked like a runner helping him out, right? They were both pretty noticeable.”

 

“That’s us,” Chie confirmed slowly, tacitly inviting the woman to introduce herself when she nodded in return. “Is there something you need?”

 

The woman checked a waterproof watch on a gold bracelet, her lips turning down when she saw the time, before she replied. “I live there too and thought you might want some help getting adjusted. But I have to go. I’ll catch you later,” she told them over her shoulder as she started walking briskly away, catching attention from the nearby guys who turned to watch her leave.

 

“She was… interesting,” Yukiko remarked. Bright and vivacious, and coming over only to leave a moment later. “I didn’t know we had people like that in the dorm.”

 

“Takes all kinds,” Chie replied, watching to woman leave before shaking her head. “Strange. But are you done with your registration? I have to double-check some things and get my books.”

 

Yukiko nodded and followed her friend to the change rooms, nodding politely to the people around them as they went. The woman who’d greeted them was nowhere to be seen, and compared to the dark one-pieces or black and grey suits the other women in the change room wore, she would have stood out if she were. Yukiko checked her locker before they washed the chlorine off the make sure her ring was still there, her cheeks tightening with a smile again when she saw it winking back.

 

Once she rinsed the conditioner from her hair and towelled it dry, she pulled on her clothes and flexed her hands. The pull of her stretched muscles was a familiar comfort, and she was already looking for gaps in her weekly schedule to work in more swimming time. She’d have to find a swim cap before she did, however; she didn’t want to ruin her hair.

 

They left the pool to look after Chie’s errand, which took them to the campus administration and then to the bookstore where she found the last of her textbooks, eating up the rest of the morning and taking them into the afternoon. The pair picked out a bench in one of the university courtyards to take in the scenery and enjoy a quiet, store-bought lunch, the price of which reinforced Yukiko’s determination to cook proper meals for her and Chie. She had Souji’s cookbooks, after all, and she’d promised him that she would get better by the next time she saw him.

 

The sky was clear and bright, the wind carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass and cooked rice from the nearby cafeteria, and the girls relaxed in their seats to soak in the ambiance. “It’s not Inaba,” Chie commented after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “but this place is pretty nice.”

 

“Souji and Kou-kun are probably in Fujisawa by now,” Yukiko replied, not stopping her right hand from moving over to her ring, feeling the patterns in the gold against her fingertips. “He said Rise-chan would help them sort everything out when they got there.”

 

Chie chuckled, reading between the lines without any effort. “He’ll be fine. Souji grew up in the cities, and he’s moved around more than both of us combined. I don’t think there’s anything Fujisawa can throw at him that he can’t handle.”

 

“He has Yosuke-kun and Kou-kun with him,” Yukiko noted, looking distantly across the courtyard and through the traffic of passersby. “I wonder how he does it sometimes. He’s used to it, I’m sure. When I went to Kofu, he seemed at home in the city, and even moving around a lot didn’t seem to bother him. But I wonder if…”

 

“If what?” Chie inquired. When an answer wasn’t forthcoming, she shrugged and leaned back, kicking a foot out and bouncing her heel on the grass. “You’re probably worrying over nothing, you know. And he’ll be back here before you know it.”

 

“So will Kou-kun,” Yukiko replied with a small smile, looking over to Chie. “You two have gotten close lately, haven’t you?”

 

Chie blinked at her, then blushed a sudden red and cleared her throat. “Um, yeah, well he’s…”

 

Yukiko waited for Chie to finished, but when the answer didn’t come, she moved a bit closer on the bench. “He’s what? Is everything okay?”

 

Chie cleared her throat and tried for something steady and level. “W-well, yeah. We’re fine.”

 

Yukiko looked at her, a bit puzzled. “I see,” she said after a moment. “If you’re sure, then that’s good news. I’m glad things are going well between you.”

 

Chie tried to control her reaction, but couldn’t. Yukiko always managed to ask things in a way that made it hard to ignore, no matter how Chie wanted to at that moment. Things were going fine between her and Kou. Hard as she tried, much as she wanted to focus on the present, the words pulled her back to Inaba, and her face heated while her right hand closed in a loose fist like she was trying to hold onto something precious.

 

**_Flashback_ **

 

Nothing beat Aiya. This was a universal truth alongside the colour of the sky and the direction that rain fell. Furthermore, nothing beat Aiya after a long day of packing and prioritizing what stuff she would be taking with her to Kyoto. First she’d thought she could take all her fighting gear and martial arts magazines, but Souji had trimmed down her list, reminding her that the fewer things she brought with her, the fewer bags she’d be carrying from the train station.

 

Still, there was a fair amount to pack up, and Kou had stopped by to help her and get in a last-minute study session. He’d come up to her room after he was done talking with her mom and making her laugh like only Chie’s father had been able to up to that point. She’d packed her clothes into one bag and set about packing what was most important, him offering commentary on what she would be able to buy in Kyoto rather than carry with her. “You’ll be coming back in a few years,” he told her when she fretted about the stacks of her DVDs and karate documentaries that she’d be leaving behind. “And it’ll all be here when you do.”

 

“Are you taking much?” She asked.

 

“Just my books and clothes,” he replied, looking at some of her favourite posters. “I can find everything else in Fujisawa. Or get someone to send me what I want after I get there.”

 

Chie gave him a faux-sour look, flipping through her books and thinking of how to fit them in her last bag. “I’m down to four bags and I still think I’m going to break my back trying to carry all of it. Must be nice to be a light traveler.”

 

“It is,” was his answer, and he dodged back with a laugh when she threw one of those books at him. To make up for it, he’d taken her out to lunch, and her fretting and grumbling disappeared the moment the promise of Aiya’s Triple Beef All-Meat Extra Protein Bowl was mentioned.

 

They took their seat at one of the tables and she dug in as soon as the food was cool enough to eat. Kou was more reserved, eating steadily for a few minutes before his face went sober, clearly lost in thought.

 

“I wanted to know if I could keep in touch with you after Souji, Yosuke-kun and I leave for Fujisawa,” he told her after playing with his food for a short while.

 

She shrugged, finishing a few more mouthfuls before answering. “Sure. We can keep studying like we have been. Might be tricky over the phone or on emails, but we’ve done pretty good so far.”

 

He set his chopsticks on top of his bowl and looked at her. “We have, and I was wondering if you’d mind me calling you for more than just homework and studying and ideas.”

 

She stopped eating, mind and chopsticks held still from the serious look in his eyes. For the first time in a while, his easygoing smile was nowhere to be seen. “Did you have something in mind?”

 

“We’re friends,” he told her after a long breath. “But that’s not all we can be.” He saw her widening eyes and continued quickly. “Let me explain. I love the time we spend together. I’ve learned a lot, it’s a blast when we’re hanging out or working on something, and I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding. I’m glad to be your friend, but I hope we can be more than that while we’re in university, even at long distance. I want to try to make something like that work.”

 

“I… I’m not sure w-what to say,” she told him, going a bit pale and losing her appetite.

 

He nodded. “I know, and I don’t expect you to say anything. It’s probably a bad time to talk about it, with everything going on.”

 

“I-it kinda is,” was her reply as her mind raced, looking for an answer.

 

 “But I wanted you to know how I felt before we leave Kyoto,” he told her, his eyes not moving from hers. “There won’t be much time to get together when we’re four hundred klicks away from each other. I’d like to keep in touch and hook up when we can. See where this goes.”

 

“So would I,” she said softly when the words were clear in her mind, glancing to the table and then back to him. “I’d like to keep in touch too. But the other stuff? I’m not sure yet.” His eyes clouded over and she rushed to her next words to keep him from misunderstanding. “Not yet. That doesn’t mean forever. I need some time, but I won’t blow you off, okay? It’s just that this is pretty new for me.”

 

“It is for me too,” he admitted, his usual smile peeking at her through his nervousness and his playfulness sparking in his eyes like a match struck in the dark. “But in a while? You promise? Because I’ll keep bugging you until I get an answer.”

 

“Yeah. I promise,” she told him with a shaky but sincere smile.

 

Then there was their time in Kyoto before he left.

 

“That’s everything,” she told him, wiping her forehead after tossing the duffel bag holding her clothes onto her bed. Even with her DVDs and martial arts posters, there was a lot less stuff in her new room than she was used to.

 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Kou noted, glancing out her window and checking his phone. “Do you  have anything planned for the rest of the day?”

 

Chie double-checked her bags and belongings before looking up at him thoughtfully. “Hmmm… Nothing that can’t wait, I guess. Why? Got a place in mind?”

 

He shrugged with his usual easygoing smile, the one that made her smile in return but left her wondering what he was hiding. Outgoing and simple as he seemed, he was surprisingly hard to pin down sometimes. “Souji took Yukiko-san out for breakfast, and it got me thinking of a place that you might be into.”

 

“A place?” she asked, eyebrows raised as she gestured for him to continue.

 

“Yep. A place.”

There was a long moment when he decided not to continue. “That’s it? Not a restaurant or a park or a movie theatre?”

 

“If I told you, it’d give away the surprise. It’s not too far, if you’re in the mood for a walk.”

 

She looked at him for a long moment, thinking of what he could be talking about before shrugging. She didn’t mind Kou’s ideas and surprises as much as she might’ve minded Yosuke’s, after all. “Alright, I’ll bite. When do we leave?”

 

Right then, it turned out. In no time they were going south, leaving the Kyoto U campus and mingling with the crowds on the street. It was easy to see why there were so many people – it was a beautiful day.

 

As they walked, Kou talked about the various places around Kyoto that he’d been to over the years on account of his parents’ business interests. Museums, basketball stadiums, the oldest movie theatres in the city, and so on. She tried asking him where they were going, waiting until he seemed unprepared for a question before answering. It didn’t work. Each time, he’d just keep going or nod down the street, his smile never changing no matter what she tried.

 

“This is it,” he told her fifteen minutes later, holding his hand out to the entrance of a shrine grounds that reminded her of the fox’s home back in Inaba. Just a lot bigger.

 

She looked at the well-tended trees and the clean walkways, the people in kimonos and business attire and street clothes mingling and passing through, but couldn’t see what was special about the place. “You’ve got me,” she told him after a few moments of looking around. “It’s an old shrine, but is there something else here?”

 

“The shrine’s from the Heian period,” Kou explained, a pleased smile on his face as he kept walking. “One of the oldest places in the city.” A few minutes later, he pointed to a well-kept pagoda, complete with archery ranges and people in kendo _gi_ in front of a sign-in office. “This is the Budo Centre,” he explained finally. “It’s the oldest martial arts hall in the country that’s still open for students.”

 

“Built in 1899 and used by the government to train police officers,” she continued before he could, the words immediately coming back from memory as she stood, stunned by the feeling of being there in person. “I didn’t know it was open to the public.”

 

“They have classes for everything here,” he confirmed. “Archery, kendo and the naginata, and a few types of martial arts. Want to see?”

 

Chie blinked at him, still not believing what she was seeing and how simple it was for him to bring her here. “What do you mean? Do you know someone here?”

 

“No,” he told her cheerfully. “But the classes are open for guests to watch so long as they don’t interrupt, and there’s one starting in ten minutes. Want to sit in?”

 

She was past him in a flash, excitedly asking the lady at the information booth where the classes were taking place.

 

Her memory was selective from that point on. She couldn’t remember what the exterior of the buildings looked like as they moved through the complex, or even how she got to the dojo where the classes were being held. But she remembered the welcoming sensei and the way he moved, smooth and calm like she’d always wanted to. The class they’d attended was in kenpo, and she was riveted from start to finish. The way the students moved, even the amateurs, was burned into her eyes, and she felt like she could improve her own forms just based on what she’d seen. Every move and counter enthralled her, every lesson whetted her appetite, and it felt like they’d just started when the sensei dismissed the class. Disappointed as she was, she was on her feet and out the door before Kou could talk to her, and he had to hurry to keep up.

 

“Looks like you had a good time,” Kou noted after she got all the literature she could find on class schedules and times.

 

“That was the best,” she told him happily, almost shaking from the adrenaline of just watching the group and already imagining how her first classes would go.

 

He nodded and put a hand in his pocket, content to walk next to her and take in the scenery as they headed back to the dorm. It took a few minutes, but his polite distance caught her attention through the excitement. He wasn’t pushing her or bringing up their talk in Inaba, but she knew he had to be thinking about it. It was a nice gesture, him bringing her here, but he hadn’t asked for anything in return. He was content to let her set the pace of their relationship, giving her time to work things out. A scenario that left him waiting, and that wasn’t fair to him. Sure, she didn’t know what to call this thing between them, other than that he was pretty determined to make it work, but her hesitation was making him the only active part in this play. And Satonaka Chie was anything but a passive princess stuck in a tower. She was still nervous, could feel the butterflies fluttering around her ribs and quivering in her lungs, but she hadn’t let that stop her in the TV world.

 

She moved all her literature to one hand and took hold of his wrist with the other. When he turned to look at her, she stepped forwards and leaned up, kissing him firmly on the cheek even as her own quickly began to burn. “Thanks for bringing me here,” she told him, quiet and embarrassed but happy that she’d taken the step.

 

It took him a few seconds to process what had happened, but he smiled and nodded to her, moving his hand to hers and gently but firmly taking it as they walked. “Any time.”

 

**_End Flashback_ **

 

“Yeah,” Chie told Yukiko as she came back to the present. “We’re doing alright.”

 

Yukiko nodded, smiling for her friend and the basketball captain who was sharing the road with her, in as roundabout way as she’d ever heard. The girls continued on their way, talking about nothing important and making note of the paths and walkways across campus. Their way home wasn’t straight, however. They stumbled across the university’s auditorium which was already full of drama students practicing monologues and arguing over set designs, and got lost on their way back to their dorm, ending up in the nursing and medical wing before they found their way back to their new home, just as the sun touched the horizon.

 

Comfortable on familiar ground, the two wanted to take to their rooms and relax for the evening. A familiar voice, however, interrupted those plans the moment they were made.

 

“There you are!” the woman from the pool called out, brushing past couples and groups to get to Chie and Yukiko, a welcoming smile on her lips. It was odd how easy it was to recognize her in clothes when she’d been in a swimsuit before, but her air mixed with those distinct green eyes made confusing her with someone else impossible.

 

“Hi,” Chie replied politely. “We didn’t get a chance for an introduction before.”

 

“Sorry about that,” the woman told them with a small shrug. “Had something to take care of that couldn’t wait. But I’m glad that I ran into you here. I’m Amemiya Natsuki. Nice to meet you.” She wore a close-fitting blouse with vibrant red and gold and indigo splashed across it, the top buttons undone, Yukiko was sure, because of the heat. A matching red skirt and indoor shoes set off the combination, and it all matched her lightly tanned skin. Like before, though, Yukiko looked to Natsuki’s face. Smiling and open in a way that reminded her of Rise-chan, she wasn’t lacking in jewelry. Her right ear sported two jeweled studs, one a dark garnet and the other a deep blue sapphire, and her left held an ankh on a short, thin chain. A slender gold necklace hung across her chest, but around her neck was a black silk choker with a closed silver lock in the middle. It seemed important to her, because the detail was distinct and it showed signs of having been polished.

 

“Nice to meet you too,” Yukiko replied, not wanting to be caught staring again and giving Amemiya a polite bow, despite not knowing if her accessories were personal or not. “I’m Amagi Yukiko.”

 

“Satonaka Chie,” her friend told the newcomer, also bowing but clearly curious about the woman.

 

“The pleasure’s mine,” Natsuki assured them, brushing her hair back. The gesture caught Yukiko’s eye, drawing it to a streak of deep yellow in Amemiya’s otherwise wavy black tresses. “Just call me Natsuki though. We’re in the same dorm, so we might as well get along, right?”

 

“Um, sure,” Chie responded after a moment, resting a hand on her waist.

 

“Good girl,” Natsuki complimented, then snapped her fingers lightly a moment later. “That’s right, you were with the blue-haired guy before, right?” she queried, nodding toward the girls’ rooms. “He’s pretty good-looking.”

 

“Thanks,” Chie replied in a deadpan tone, eyes narrowing a bit from her words. Yukiko looked at her cautiously, hoping things didn’t break down so soon after they’d arrived.

 

The shift in mood must have been obvious to Natsuki too, because she laughed and waved her hand dismissively. “No need to worry, sweetie. He’s not my type. I just got a good vibe from him, like he’s a decent guy who would look out for his girl.” Natsuki’s eyes glittered and her smile deepened into something like admiration as she looked at Chie. Yukiko blinked in confused recognition. She knew that look; Souji had looked at her like that when she was in his room before they left Inaba. “And he’s got pretty good taste.”

 

The silence between them went heavy in a snap, growing a bit uncomfortable as neither knew how to comment on that. Yukiko was about to ask if Natsuki meant what she seemed to when a long, disgusted sigh interrupted all three of them. “This is what you meant when you said ‘welcoming the new girls’?”

 

Natsuki’s eyes lit up and her smile turned impish when she heard the voice, turning to address the newcomer. Yukiko and Chie turned to the speaker, curious as to who they were going to meet now.

 

The woman who met their eyes, a few years older than Chie, was everything Natsuki wasn’t. Tall and slim where Natsuki had curves and knew it, straight hair that brushed her shoulders instead of waves down her back, dressed in black slacks and a grey shirt that seemed positively austere to Natsuki’s vibrant colours, and wearing a resigned and faintly annoyed look behind simple, utilitarian glasses, as she walked up to them. She wore no jewelry except for an ankh earring in her right ear. It looked like the matching twin, Yukiko noted, to Natsuki’s.

 

Natsuki twisted around to look at the woman, moving to her side and giving a low hum. “We were just finishing our introductions, Mei. Nothing unusual.”

 

The woman snorted and shook her head, turning to Yukiko and Chie with a look of patient resignation that was offset by the small upturn to her lips. “Sorry about her behaviour. I hope she didn’t put you off,” she told them, giving a smooth, professional bow. “I’m Kisaragi Raimei, second-year student. ” The level look she gave Chie and Yukiko was friendly but calm, a wealth of intelligence in her hazel eyes. “It’s been a while since we had out-of-towners move into the dorm, and it was unusual that those guys helped you out but aren’t here now. Are they students too?”

 

“They’re in Fujisawa,” Yukiko replied after introducing herself. “Kisaragi Raimei? That’s an interesting name.”

 

A look of familiarity and resignation settled on Mei’s face. “Everyone says that. Kisaragi will be fine, or ‘Mei’ if you want. It’s a pleasure.”

 

“The feeling’s mutual,” Chie told her, less on her guard than before, though she did give a careful look at Natsuki, who flashed her a smile. “We appreciate the welcome. Is it common for students here to meet up with the new girls?”

 

Natsuki chuckled as her lips peeled back in a grin. “Not always. You two are special cases though, since–”

 

She was cut off by a sharp kick to the shin from Mei, giving a hurt yelp and a pout which was ignored. “Keep it to yourself,” Mei told her with a stare. “You two stood out,” she told the curious pair. “The two guys who were helping you move in were pretty distinctive. More to the point, they had their heads on straight, and that’s not too common. Most girls have boyfriends who drool over the other students, or come from money and act like it’s going to buy them their grades. Natsuki says you’re both down to earth, and that’ll make for a nice change.”

 

“I’m not sure if we can take credit for that,” Chie admitted. “We’re not doing anything special.”

 

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Mei told them with a friendly wave. “Anyway, we won’t keep you. It’s been a pleasure, and if you need anything, let me know. We’ve been here for a while, and there are a lot places that will gouge you if you don’t know where to look.”

 

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Yukiko began, thinking quickly, “what program are you taking? Are there many that last a long time?”

 

“Business,” Mei told her with a grudging shake of her head. “Corporate financing, to be precise. Best way to stay afloat these days if I want to be more than a translator or a tour guide.”

 

“Good to meet you,” Natsuki told them with a wide smile and bright eyes.

 

“That will do,” Mei told her shortly, wrapping an arm around Natsuki’s and pulling as she walked. “You’ve bothered them enough already. Let’s go.”

 

Natsuki whined but didn’t have much of a choice. Yukiko noted that, just before they turned the corner to their hallway, Natsuki’s hand was slipping around Mei’s waist, and the taller woman didn’t reach down to remove it.

 

“Well,” Chie began with a disbelieving tone and a chuckle in her voice as she shook her head, “those two were certainly interesting. I knew we’d meet new people here, but they really take the cake. Kisaragi seems like she has her head on straight, though.”

 

“It was nice of her to offer her help,” Yukiko replied before checking the nearby wall clock. “I should get to bed; I have a meeting tomorrow.”

 

Chie nodded and fell in beside her when she headed toward their rooms. They moved past several groups of other students, talking or reading or on their phones, and none gave them a passing glance. “An early night won’t kill me. My classes start in a few days.”

 

The pair split to go to their respective rooms, which was a difference of eight feet since their rooms were next to each other, and made plans to go swimming the next day. Yukiko turned her desk light on and chuckled to herself as she thought of the eccentric pair and sat at her desk, looking out over the concrete landscape of night-time Kyoto. There were many more lights than she was used to in Inaba, with even midnight being as bright as morning. The roads and sidewalks were painted gold from the streetlights, and she felt like she could see for miles if it weren’t for the buildings at the end of the street. She’d had enough trouble sleeping the first few nights in her new room that she’d set up a set of improvised curtains to keep the light out, planning on finding some proper drapes on the weekend.

 

Souji was probably used to this more than she was. It probably didn’t even phase him.

 

The thought of his name brought a smile to her lips and a giddy flutter to her heart. She couldn’t resist the urge to touch her ring one more time before reaching for her phone. She wanted to give him a call before she went to bed.

 

\---

 

“Welcome to Fujisawa, Senpai!”

 

To Souji, stepping off the train and onto the platform like he’d done countless times before should have been like a long-drawn sigh. Stale grey concrete greeted him instead of the rich colours of trees and hills, car pollution tickled his throat in the place of clean air, and the tumbling current of people running by the station should have been tiring just by looking at them. It wasn’t a sigh or a tired exhale that fell on him, however. It wasn’t the thrilling fire of life he’d felt a few days prior; that was back in Kyoto with Yukiko. But his first steps in the new prefecture weren’t weighed down or weary. Instead he felt content, ready to take on whatever came his way.

 

And the first person to do so was none other than the vibrant Kujikawa Rise in her pigtails and bright pull-over and capris, rushing up to hug him as soon as she was sure she wouldn’t run into anyone. “Hey Rise,” he returned, giving her a smile and a one-armed hug. “Did you move down here?”

 

She pulled away with a spectacular pout and her fists on her hips. “Hey, that’s mean! Don’t you want me around?”

 

“Of course I do. I’m just impressed that an idol has this much free time,” Souji noted, adjusting his bags. “You helped Yukiko in Kofu and now here you are.”

 

“We’ll take it, though,” Yosuke put in, stepping up to her with his trademark grin and a wink. “Beats not knowing anyone and having nothing to look forward to but classes and jobs.”

 

Rise’s 40,000 megawatt smile shone as she stepped forward to hug Yosuke. “It’s wonderful to see you too, Yosuke-senpai.”

 

“Back atcha,” Yosuke replied with a small blush, returning the hug with one arm.

 

Souji kept his smile to himself. The exchange reminded him of Yosuke’s enthusiasm when Rise moved to Inaba. It seemed some of those feelings were still there, and given how she filled out her clothes compared to when Souji last saw her, it was easy to see why.

 

Rise pulled back and looked over at Kou, who was getting his bags from the train’s luggage compartment, and greeted him with a bow. “I’m glad to see you too, Ichijo-senpai.”

 

Kou’s typical smile began his reply. “You too, Kujikawa-san. Like Yosuke-san said, it’ll be great to have some familiar company while we’re here.”

 

“I’ll definitely be around,” she promised with a smile and a tilt of her head.

 

Introductions taken care of, Souji had taken three steps down the train platform, mentally reciting the address of their shared apartment, when he saw two more familiar figures that stopped him in stride. He blinked, unsure if he was seeing them right, then shook his head with a laugh. “What are you two doing here?”

 

Toyama Yoshiro approached with Takenaka Megumi close behind, a wide grin and a welcoming smile on each respective face. “Risette found out we were in the area and invited us to welcome you,” Yoshiro told him after they shook hands. “There was nothing else going on, so here we are.”

 

That sounded like Rise. “I get that,” Souji replied, scratching his cheek. “I mean what are you doing in Fujisawa?”

 

Yoshiro held a hand out to the side, indicating the city around them. “They have some good universities here. I got a full scholarship from Kofu, so here I am.”

 

Souji chuckled in disbelief. What were the odds? “How about you, Megumi-san?” he asked the brunette, who was as striking as he remembered.

 

“Sports therapy,” she told him, dry humour clear in her voice, before bowing. “It’s good to see you again.”

 

“You too,” Souji returned. He hadn’t made many friends in Kofu, but he was glad to see these two again, even if he’d never thought he’d get the chance to so soon after they’d graduated. “If you’re into sports therapy, then you might be able to bounce some ideas off of Kou. He’s the one with blue hair,” he added, pointing back over his shoulder.

 

“He’s into basketball?” Yoshiro asked, eyeing the ball balanced on Kou’s bags.

 

Souji closed his eyes so they wouldn’t see him rolling them. It was going to come out at some point. “He’s the friend I talked about in Kofu,” he explained. “The one who lived for it.”

 

“Does he still play?” Yoshiro demanded, eyes lighting up with interest. Megumi gave him a suffering look and shook her head, but wore an indulgent smile.

 

“We got in some practice after the snow melted,” Souji offered, imagining the two tearing up the court if left alone. The thought made his hands itch and left him thinking of ways the three of them could play when they had the time. “If you’re up for it, we could probably get some hoops in once we get settled in.”

 

“Love to,” Yoshiro commented, moving a bit closer to where Rise was talking to Yosuke and Kou. “Nothing like practice to stay sharp, right?”

 

Souji turned to look at the others, ready to see his new living space, but Megumi made a puzzled sound and walked up to him, a look of curiosity on her face. “Souji-kun,” she said slowly, eyes a bit narrow.

 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why she was looking at him like that, but he answered anyway, aware of Rise and Yosuke looking over curiously while Yoshiro and Kou immediately hit it off. “Yes?”

 

“I’m a bit hurt that you didn’t pass on the good news.” When he looked at her curiously, she nodded down to his left hand. “When did you get married?”

 

The voices around him cut off so abruptly that he looked over to make sure that Yoshiro and Rise hadn’t spontaneously disappeared. But they were still there, and looking at him with eyes the size of wonton soup bowls. Where Yosuke and Kou already knew about the ring on his hand, the others were appropriately floored.

 

“Married?” Yoshiro repeated, blinking owlishly.

 

“Engaged, actually,” Souji corrected.

 

His left arm was seized by the small, vice-grip fingers of Rise a moment later. “Married!?” She demanded, her voice soaring as her face broke into an impossibly wide grin. “Senpai, when did this happen?! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

 

“It was pretty recent, and–“

 

“You’re wearing a ring!? Let me see letmesee!” She pulled his hand up and closely inspected the white band and the stone in the mount. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, leaning closer and twisting his hand back and forth for a better look.

 

“That happens to be attached to me, you know,” he told her, trying to pull away. All it got him was ten fingers digging deeper into his arm and wrist.

 

“He kept it a secret from us, too,” Yosuke told them, looking at his friend with a grin. “First we heard about it was when Yukiko-san showed us her ring after they got back from a walk. Chie kept asking about it when she saw it too. That was the most girly she’s ever been, I think.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell us, Senpai?” Rise demanded, turning her puppy-dog stare, perfected from hours of practice in front of a mirror and honed by the adulation of hundreds of fans, at him.

 

“It was a surprise for Yukiko,” he explained, still trying to get his arm back. He would have had better luck if he’d gotten it caught in a bear trap. “And the best way to keep any secret is to not share it in the first place.”

 

“That’s unexpected,” Yoshiro commented, looking at Souji’s left hand with raised eyebrows. “It does explain why you kept to yourself in school, though. Who’s the lucky girl? I don’t think you’ve mentioned her.”

 

“Is she the girl you sent the earrings to?” Megumi inquired, understanding clear on her face as she smiled.

 

Souji nodded and reached for his phone, trying in vain to shake his bubbly friend off his arm. “Here’s a picture of– Rise, would you _let go_?! I’m not going to go anywhere!”

 

“How did you propose?” Rise demanded as he handed his phone over to Megumi. “Did you kneel or did she? No, it was definitely you. Where did you take her? What time of day was it? How did she react? Obviously she accepted, but give me the details!”

 

“Are you done yet?” He asked wearily, ignoring the how much Yosuke and Kou were laughing and trying to dismiss the curious stares they were attracting.

 

“You made a good choice. This is a good picture, by the way,” Megumi commented, showing him his favourite photo among the dozens of her that he had on his phone. Yoshiro nodded and gave a low hum of agreement.

 

It was one he’d taken on New Year’s Eve, after Dojima had picked them up from the shrine. Yukiko had been walking in front of him, looking at the decorations around the Inn entrance, and Souji had brought out his phone on a whim. He snapped the picture as she turned to look at him, hair and long crimson sleeves tugged by the cold wind that carried a scattering of snowflakes across her face. He hadn’t expected how perfect the picture would be, but her soft smile and elegant stance filled the frame beneath the perfect lighting of the moon above and the lights behind her.

 

“I’ve never seen her in that kimono,” Rise remarked as she saw the picture, lips pursed thoughtfully. “Was she wearing it when you proposed? When’s the wedding?”

 

“Not until we graduate,” Souji told her simply. “It’s going to be hard enough to get through university as it is, and we have some things to work out in Inaba when we get back.”

 

“Lots of time to plan, then,” Megumi commented, scrolling through his other pictures. “I’m sure it’ll be something special.”

 

Souji rolled his eyes when Rise cheered and bounced at his side, surely imagining what dress she would wear for the event. “Please don’t make this worse,” he told Megumi quietly, taking back his phone.

 

“We can hear all the details as we walk,” Kou suggested, shouldering his bags and nodding toward the stairs. “We’re holding up the lines, and I think we have a ways to go. Don’t we, Kujikawa-san?”

 

“It’s not far,” she assured them, walking toward the stairs with Souji’s forearm securely squeezed in her hands. “I had Inoue ask around when Senpai told me what you were looking for. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

 

“Let’s get going then,” Souji replied, walking faster and trying to dislodge Rise from his arm. No such luck.

 

“Details,” she sing-songed to him, holding his hand up and staring at the ring some more. “I want all the details, Senpai.”

 

“Yosuke,” he called behind him, trying to walk and manage his bags while Rise was latched on.

 

“Can’t help you this time,” his friend replied without a trace of shame or regret. “I don’t know how you proposed to Yukiko-san, so there’s nothing I can say here.”

 

Souji groaned under his breath, checking the address he’d copied down with his phone. If she wanted to know this badly, he figured, there wasn’t much harm in answering some of her questions. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

 

“Were you nervous? Most guys would be, in that case. Ohh, what words did you use?”

 

Except that one. “You don’t need to know that.”

 

“Of course I do! They could be the opening of my next song.”

 

“Not a chance. Saying it once was bad enough.”

 

“But Seeeennpaaaiiii,” she wailed theatrically. “You’re the first of the group to go this far. And this is important information. When a guy says he loves me, how am I supposed to know he’s sincere? You’re not going to abandon me like this, right?” Out came the wide puppy eyes and fluttered lashes, particularly fetching with her light make-up.

 

“I’d hope you’d know him well enough by then. As for the details, watch an afternoon soap opera,” he suggested, largely unaffected, spurring more laughter from Megumi as she watched the pair’s behaviour. “You probably know a few TV stars who do those, don’t you?”

 

“That’s not the same though,” Rise insisted. “Those’re just memorized lines that the producers agree on.”

 

“How about I tell you where it happened?” he offered, noting how she perked up almost instantly. “And what we did before we got there? That would be a good build-up, right?”

 

“Let’s hear it,” she commanded, leaning forward with wide, intent eyes.

 

The others laughed at her enthusiasm, but Souji brought all the story-telling skills that had served him so well with Nanako and spun as detailed a yarn as he could for Rise. He went as far back as them completing their entrance exams, telling her about his meeting with Yukiko’s parents, building up the tension of the time they spent together while knowing they would be going to school in different parts of the country. He talked about how he and Kou had helped Yukiko and Chie move into their dorm rooms at Kyoto U, and concluded with a sharply edited version of where and how he proposed to his new fiancé.

 

The discussion took them up to the block that their dorm was located on, and while Souji hadn’t been especially romantic in his descriptions, Rise was dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief by the time he finished.

 

“That’s really sweet,” she murmured, looking like she was one mention of wedding plans from crying right there.

 

When Souji glanced over at Megumi, there was a watery quality to her smile as well, something he hadn’t expected from the sharp, sarcastic brunette. “It was the best I could come up with,” he admitted, carefully choosing words that he hoped wouldn’t tip either of the ladies into a crying fit in the middle of the sidewalk.

 

After Rise blew her nose on her tissue and wiped at her eyes again, she shook her head insistently. “That’s why it’s so beautiful though. You meant it from the heart. I can’t think of anything better than that.”

 

Souji looked to the other guys, who were equally quiet and edgy around the sentimental ladies, so he cleared his throat and tried to bring the topic back to business. “This is it, right?” He pointed to a large apartment complex further down the block.

 

“Nope,” Rise told them, less tears and more cheer in her voice now. “It’s over here.”

 

When Souji saw where she meant, he was floored. Rather than a simple set of nearby apartments, she’d pointed to a spacious, high-class condo with closely-trimmed lawns, recently-washed windows, and a tennis court on one side and a basketball court on the other. Next to him, Yosuke gave a low, impressed whistle.

 

“We were surprised too,” Yoshiro commented. “When Risette said she’d help set up our accommodations, that she knew people, we weren’t expecting this.”

 

“I’m partly to blame for this, actually,” Kou told them, not looking very apologetic. “My family insisted that I find a ‘more suitable living space’ when they heard where we were planning on staying, and they weren’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

 

“Are we going to be able to afford this?” Souji asked finally, looking at the spacious lawn and carefully shaped trees along the front walkway. “This seems way over our budget, and I wasn’t planning on living off of someone else’s generosity the whole time I’m here.”

 

“The owner’s a pretty big fan of mine,” Rise explained, “so he was happy to lower the costs a bit when I asked. It has everything you’ll need, and it’s close to all the cool spots in town.”

 

“Can’t complain with that,” Yosuke noted, a grin growing on his face. “Beats sharing a box with one window and no air conditioning.”

 

Souji had been hoping for a modest three-bedroom apartment with a shared kitchen and quiet neighbours. As they entered and went up to their shared residence on the eighth floor, he found that his expectations weren’t in the same hemisphere as the reality. A large, open living space with a couch-surrounded TV, bookshelves near a set of reading chairs, a kitchen twice the size of anything he’d cooked in before next to a large, dark dining table, and soft dark carpets that set off the stained mahogany floors all welcomed him to an away-from-home experience that was promising to be a lot less spartan than he’d originally expected. The lighting was low on account of the large windows and sliding doors letting in the sun and leading out to a sizable deck, complete with lounge chairs. The condo even had the smell of a new place, or at least newly cleaned, and he breathed in cedar, sandalwood, leather and the ocean.

 

“This,” Yosuke said as he turned in place, looking everything over and sitting back in a couch that immediate gained his approval, “this I can live with.”

 

“We won’t have to worry about being cramped,” Kou noted, slipping off his shoes and heading back to the rear of the condo where some of the bedrooms were located.

 

“We’ll have to check the numbers when we have a chance,” Souji told his friend, following him with his bags and belongings. “I imagine we’re all going to have to work a fair bit if we’re going to stay here, discount or not.”

 

“I’ll find out what the costs are,” Kou promised, opening one of the three empty rooms. There was one at the end of the hall that had belongings already set inside, probably belonging to Yoshiro and Megumi. “I’m not going to complain if I can stay here, but I’m not taking a hand-out from my parents.”

 

Souji nodded and opened the door across from his friend. “Agreed.” He entered his new room and looked around. A large study desk was set against the wall, a reading couch covered in cushions next to a chair around a low table, dark curtains over a large window pouring afternoon sunlight through the spotless and streak-less glass, and a large Western-style bed that he knew was going to take some getting used to. A pair of closet doors opened up to more storage space than any two rooms he’d ever had before, and clothes hangers were waiting for his wardrobe when he knew that what he had wouldn’t fill half of it.

 

It was spacious when he expected cramped, colourful when he would have been satisfied with grey and austere, and comfortable when he hadn’t given luxury a second thought. But despite the unexpected change and the economic part of his mind that kept tallying up everything he saw, leaving him wondering if all of them working would cover just the rent, he had to admit as he tapped the walls and felt the thick insulation behind them, ideal for cutting out sound, that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if they could stay here.

 

Unpacking was so familiar that he was three-quarters done before he noticed what he was doing, smiling at the thought of all the moves in his childhood coming in use for something. He went back to the living room to check on the others, noticing Kou talking to Megumi and Yoshiro.

 

“Ah, good timing,” Yoshiro noted with a ready smile. “We were just talking about setting up a game outside. The basketball court is in pretty good shape, and there are a few guys from the fifth floor who’re on one of the university teams. Ichijo and I were planning on inviting them down for a few quarters in the morning.”

 

“What about you, Souji?” Kou asked. “Up for some hoops tomorrow?”

 

Souji shook his head. “Wish I could, but I have to look into something at the university first.”

 

And despite the protests and invitations to hang around the dorm complex, that’s what he did. He left the dorm the next morning dressed in his usual slacks and jacket, even though Fujisawa in the summer hardly warranted one, with a street map downloaded to his phone and lots of time for exploring, which led him to taking up one of his old habits. He circled the block where his new home sat, then circled it again in the opposite direction, looking at everything from different angles until he felt certain that he would recognize it. Then he made notes on the local stores and what they carried, acquainting himself with the shopkeepers and employees while eyeing the shelves for sales. There were more shops and vendors than he expected, and by the time he finished his late lunch that afternoon, his phone’s notepad was full of names and addresses, complete with general descriptions of the employees and stores in question. That level of detail was probably unnecessary, especially with six fast-food restaurants a stone’s throw away from their condo, but he always felt better when he knew where his next meal was coming from, and how much it was likely to cost.

 

After his explorations were complete, checked his map and headed to the Fujisawa campus of Keio University. Every block felt more and more opulent and important, the people on the streets were dressed sharply with business suits and sweater vests. Their mannerisms shifted as well, from normal people living their lives and trying to get somewhere to the puffed-up, self-important pomposity that surrounded most of the students even heavier than their cologne. As Souji made his way to the administration office, more than one person turned to look at him, wordlessly demanding that he explain his presence there. When his reply, every time, was to ignore them and keep going regardless of how close they were to impeding him, they eventually left him alone. Some snorted in disbelief, others glared, but none did more than that.

 

Souji shook his head at the childishness of it all, cringing when he entered the campus buildings where the history and prestige were married to the palpable sense of self-importance. “Like a reality marble,” he murmured to himself, eager to conclude his business and leave as soon as he could. He knew that he’d be able to handle the classes when they started, but the fakeness and the rampant airs put on for perceived prestige, familiar as it was, would take some getting used to. As he approached the administrative desks, he twisted his ring back and forth, reminding himself why he was here.

 

“Can I help you?” one of the registrars asked with a smile when he approached.

 

“I hope so,” he replied, returning the smile. “There seems to be a mix-up with my school records. I received confirmation of my registration a few months ago, but now your systems say that my fees haven’t been processed and my place in my classes might be at risk.”

 

The lady frowned thoughtfully and began rattling her fingers across her keyboard. “That’s unusual. May I have your name?”

 

“Seta Souji.”

 

Her eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully while she scanned the screen for a few seconds, then her eyes widened in surprise. “You’ll have to speak to the admissions supervisor about that, Seta-san,” the woman told him with one of those professional smiles that was as devoid of information as it was feeling. It reminded him of his parents’ business partners, and did anything but make him feel better.

 

“Why is that?”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that question. The supervisor would be the one to handle the matter. Do you need directions to his office?”

 

Protesting got him nowhere, and he ended up waiting for almost an hour for the supervisor in question. Explaining his situation a second time seemed to fall on deaf ears, and when he was directed to the class counsellors to check if his file had made it there, he gave up and returned to his new home, marvelling at how he was supposed to learn practical business lessons from an institution so in love with its internal bureaucracy that it lost its own students in the process.

 

“I wish I knew what was going on,” he told Dojima later that evening, turning his coin through his fingers. “It seems like it’s a clerical error, but they’ve had a week to sort it out and it’s still going nowhere. And when I talked to their supervisors about it, I got shot down.” He remembered the look on the man’s face when he’d introduced himself. A flash of recognition that became open friendliness despite the complete lack of answers or any cooperation he got afterward.

 

“Sounds like you think it’s more than just missing paperwork,” the detective commented.

 

“From what I’ve told you, do you think I’m wrong?”

 

“It’s hard to say with universities. Everyone takes their vacations at the same time and then acts like it’s a surprise that nothing got done when they were gone, so it could be a backlog of stuff they have to work through. But as it is? No, especially if you sorted all this out before you left Inaba. It’s not like them to make mistakes on something that should be in the system already. I don’t know what the problem could be, though.”

 

“Me neither,” Souji sighed, leaning against the window frame near his bed. “But I put some calls in to people who might be able to help sort it out. We’ll see when I hear back from them.”

 

“Are you covered for everything else? Housing and food, at least?”

 

“Yeah, Rise’s helped us with that angle. And I talked to Yosuke and Kou about the mix-up. I’m alright for now.”

 

“That’s good.” There was a pause, then Dojima’s voice turned humorous. “You know, you might not have had this problem if you hadn’t bought those rings.”

 

“Not up for discussion,” Souji shot back, a smile spreading across his face as he stopped flipping his coin and rubbed the still-unfamiliar silver band with his little and middle finger, the stone flashing in the light of the room.

 

“How did she take it?”

 

The detective wasn’t someone Souji considered interested in gossip  or nosy when he wasn’t on the clock, but it was impossible to miss the interest in his voice. The thought of how the man probably looked while asking inspired a small smile, and Souji kept his tone intentionally bland. “Pretty well.”

 

Dojima waited for a moment, clearly expecting more. When Souji didn’t continue, he scoffed hard on the line. “That’s it? Pretty well?”

 

The teen shrugged and chuckled, stepping away from the wall. “That’s about it, yeah. I took her out for breakfast, then we found a nice forest trail near the university. I asked, she said ‘yes,’ and we spent the rest of the day at the Kyoto National Museum.”

 

“You’re full of it,” Dojima told him with a gruff laugh. There was a scraping of chair legs followed by a grunt as he sat down, evidently at the kitchen table where they’d shared their late-night discussions. “But I’m glad that she accepted. I’d hate to think you worked yourself into that much of a panic just to be shot down.”

 

“Well, we’re saving the wedding plans until we get back to Inaba, so there’s lots of time before things get serious.”

 

“You know, Nanako’s still wondering about what you got Amagi,” Dojima mentioned, smile obvious in his voice. “She won’t stop asking about it, and she’s driving Tatsumi and Shirogane up the wall whenever she sees them.”

 

“You haven’t told her?” Souji inquired, glancing out the window at the familiar streetlight-lit roads and sidewalks before pulling the curtain closed and returning to his desk chair, leaning back with a _creak_ and flipping his coin some more. “It wouldn’t be that big of a deal if you did.”

 

He got a dusty, humour-filled chuckle in response. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing she wants to hear from me,” the detective replied. “She’d want it to be from you or Amagi. It would be more real, I think, in that case, and I’m sure she wants details. Chisato was exactly the same way.”

 

“I’ll tell her next time I talk to her,” Souji promised. “Or get Yukiko to do it, since I’m sure they talk a lot.”

 

“Well, it’ll have to wait until later,” Dojima told him. “She’s got a school play to practice for, and she’s been working on her lines since the roles were announced.”

 

Souji laughed to himself as he thought of his cousin in a tiara and a too-big dress of pink lace while she sang the Junes tunes in front of her entire school. But his uncle’s proud tone brought something to mind. Something he’d forgotten to ask while he was still in Inaba. “Hey, Dojima.”

 

“Yeah? What’s up?”

 

“I was wondering about something, and I’d understand if you told me it’s none of my business, but I’m still curious about it.”

 

The older of the two was quiet for a few seconds before replying, his voice sober. “Okay, what is it?”

 

Souji inhaled before letting out a measured breath. “Have you ever thought of getting remarried?”

 

There was a sharp hiss of breath, then the line was silent for a few long, heavy moments. “Why do you ask?” Dojima responded, his voice toneless.

 

“I was wondering if you’d thought about it. And I wonder if Nanako ever wants a woman around to talk to.”

 

“She’s never brought it up,” he informed Souji.

 

“I know she hasn’t, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want one,” Souji pointed out while running his thumb along the sharp groove crossing the coin. “I’m not trying to push it. It’s definitely more your business than it is mine. I just got to thinking before that Nanako might want a feminine presence in her life. One that’s around most of the time.”

 

There was another long pause, and Souji knew his welcome with the topic was wearing thin. “What brought this on?” Dojima asked instead, his tone unchanging. “You proposing to Amagi?”

 

“I’ve had it on my mind for a while. Nanako loves Yukiko and the rest of the girls, but I just wonder if she needs a mother-figure in her life.”

 

“We haven’t discussed it, but no, I don’t plan on remarrying,” was Dojima’s firm response. “Chisato is Nanako’s mother, and that’s not changing.”

 

Souji sighed as he sat back in his chair and tapped his coin on the desk. He knew he was hitting a brick wall here, and while he wanted to see his family happy, he also knew that this wasn’t a topic to tread on lightly. And he couldn’t see Dojima remarrying, or Nanako adopting another woman as her mother. “That’s fair. I was just wondering if it ever came up.”

 

“Thanks for the concern, but we’ll manage as we are.” Some of the tight tension had left the detective’s voice, and it was clear that the topic was closed.

 

“Alright.” There was a short _beep_ on his phone, and Souji smiled to himself. He’d been waiting for her to call. “I have to go, Dojima. I have another call coming through.”

 

“Alright. Take care, and keep me posted on your schooling situation.”

 

“I will.” Souji pulled his phone away to take the call, not looking at the screen first, and greeted her happily. “Hey you. How’re you settling in?” There was a momentary pause before he heard anything.

 

“Souji.”

 

The smile on his face and the levity in his heart disappeared as fast as the fall of a guillotine blade. The voice was deep, distinct, and definitely not Yukiko’s.

 

“It’s your father. I’d like to talk.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

“Did I interrupt something?” his father inquired, sounding calm despite the hour and genuinely curious – as though he did care if he interrupted – in a way that Souji hadn’t heard in years. “It sounded like you were expecting someone else.”

 

Souji blinked, losing sight of his room as he shuffled in his chair and tried to rein in his thoughts. Everything he’d planned on telling Yukiko rattled around in his head, broken into pieces from him slamming on the brakes and changing mindsets to deal with his father. And worse, he thought with a sinking sense in his stomach, he might have tipped off Yukiko’s existence to the last person in the world he wanted to know about her. The man was anything but dull and unperceptive, after all. Much as Souji wished otherwise. “No, it’s nothing,” He told his father a moment later, no joy or warmth in his voice.

 

“Are you sure? Were you waiting for a friend? You mentioned someone getting settled in, so–”

 

“Was there something you needed?” The polite framing of the question was a thin sheet over a collection of knives, held back only because his father never called without a reason.

 

In spite of the near-naked hostility, Yuuma continued smoothly as honey with milk. “Maybe it was a girl? You’re smart and capable, so that wouldn’t surprise me. If that is the case, tell me her name; I might know her family.”

 

“I’m not seeing anyone, father.” As little compunction as he had about lying to either of his parents, the words burned his tongue the moment he said them. It felt like he was slandering Yukiko and every memory they’d made since Christmas, and he couldn’t stop from looking over at his ring. “And I’m not going to a marriage meeting or hooking up with some snob’s daughter just because you have connections. Why are you calling?”

 

“You refuse to meet other girls your own age,” Yuuma mused, “because you’re in a relationship? Not with that Risette girl. No, I haven’t seen you on anymore headlines or celebrity magazines lately.”

 

Souji’s words came from behind clenched teeth this time. “I already told you, I’m not–”

 

“You’re lying,” his father stated simply. “You were expecting someone else to call, and now you’re trying to cover it up. I haven’t heard you this angry in years, so obviously I hit the mark somewhere.”

 

“Maybe I’m angry because you cut off my scholarship and lost me my job here,” Souji snapped.

 

“Well, I’m glad you’re dating,” Yuuma commented, cutting some of the hostility out of his son.

 

“…You’re what?”

 

“I’m glad. You never showed an interest in girls when you were in school, so this is a welcome change. And if it’s not Risette, then I expect you’d be with someone intelligent and capable, maybe from an old-fashioned family with a long history.”

 

Souji saw red at his father’s words, all his memories of Ayu and the problems that particular ‘business move’ caused him coming to mind. But as much as he wanted to scream at his father, satisfying as it would have been to hang up on the man, his father was not to be underestimated. Plenty of his business partners and competitors had learned, one way or the other, that rushing in against Seta Yuuma was like diving into a swimming pool full of land mines. “I’ve dated enough in the past, father,” he replied after a few seconds. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

 

There was a contemplative pause on the line before Yuuma spoke again. “I understand you’re in Fujisawa, attending Keio University.”

 

Small talk. Wonderful. But if that was how Souji had to play the game, then he’d play if it got him some answers. “I told you as much before, yes.”

 

“That’s a fine choice. You did well to pass the exams.”

 

As much as Souji took care of his teeth, he was becoming a bit worried that clenching them as hard as he was just the would cause problems down the road. “They were nothing I couldn’t handle. Since you called, I have a question for you.”

 

“Of course. What is it?”

 

He took a stabilizing breath and put his thoughts in order. “You know people at the university, don’t you? You’re friends with a few of their finance instructors, as well as the head of the economics department.” It had been something his parents had brought up when they were discussing universities back when Souji had started junior high.

 

“So you do remember that. I’m impressed.”

 

“I’m not doing anything to impress you,” Souji snapped, his patience breaking under the weight of his building temper. “My scholarships, the job I had lined up, they’re both suddenly missing from my record despite them being finalized a month ago. Spare me the pleasantries and tell me what you had to do with it.”

 

There was a long stretch of silence before Yuuma replied, and when he did it was in a bland politically correct tone that Souji immediately recognized. And he _hated_ it when he heard that tone. “You losing those so close to the semester starting is an unfortunate circumstance. When your mother and I met, such things rarely happened, but it seems that the clerks today don’t have the same dedication as they did back then. But that’s only to be expected – they can’t keep track of everyone who comes through the doors.”

 

Souji hated it enough that it was about to beat down his curiosity. “I’m hanging up soon, unless you answer my questions: why did you do it, and what do you want?”

 

Yuuma’s toned hardened, but only a little. “Hostility toward your elders is unbefitting of someone of your talent, Souji. I know I taught you better than that. On the front of a job, I have an acquaintance who is looking for a finance intern in his company. He’ll pay you if you accept. And your admission would be less of a problem if you and I came to an understanding; I’m not above helping you when you need it.”

 

Souji bit back the vitriol that was clawing at his clenched teeth. “Understanding about what? I still don’t know what you want.”

 

 “You’ve been intent on doing this the hard way,” Yuuma noted, his tone shifting and thawing a little. “Working through the university, relying on a full scholarship, and neither of these will get you anywhere. It’s impressive that you received it, but you can do much better than that, and it’s time that you gave some thought to building the foundation for your future.”

 

Arrogance. Souji expected it and could heard it over the line, but knowing that it was the driving force behind this fiasco was galling. “You do realize that offering to help me through a problem that you yourself created isn’t the best way to get me to listen to you, right? And I chose that way of doing things because it was what I wanted to do. Earning my accolades instead of getting them handed to me on a platter because of you.”

 

“I understand. Your mother’s brother is a blue-collar man, so you come by that naturally. But you have a world of opportunities in front of you and so far you’ve let them pass you by while you’ve been hiding in the middle of nowhere. That should change, and while you might not appreciate the way I do things, you will when you see where those opportunities will get you. You like challenges, and you’d be pushed to your limits every day.”

 

Souji bit his tongue, keeping down the very small part that agreed with his father. He wasn’t as openly competitive as Daisuke, but he did want challenges in his life. Challenges like making a long-distance relationship thrive, or finding the right mix of time spent on school work and work work so that he could still enjoy an evening with his friends. Data entry and living in a cubicle was only a challenge of his sanity. “Thanks for the concern. What’s the catch?”

 

“The catch,” Yuuma replied, toneless except for the hint of curiosity. “I told you – it’s time you started thinking about your future. You can’t stay in your uncle’s attic for the rest of your life. I’m sure he wants the space back by now, and you need to grow up.”

 

The anger came back. Swirling through his mind, burning and roaring like a blast furnace at the thought of being told to ‘grow up’ by a man who was practically a stranger to him. But he kept the words to himself. They hadn’t helped him at first, and had only led him into his father’s verbal trap. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake a second time, certainly not in the same conversation. “Duly noted.”

 

 When Souji didn’t say anything more, Yuuma moved on to a different approach. “That reminds me, where are you living? It’s somewhere close by, isn’t it?”

 

“That’s none of your business.”

 

“Are you sure about that?”

 

“Very sure.”

 

“It’s not at the university,” Yuuma continued right over Souji’s response, “and you haven’t applied for residency with any of the off-campus dorms. I assume you’re using your connections. If that’s the case, well done.”

 

At least something had escaped his father’s notice. Souji had changed all his emergency information and sterilized his phone’s contact list before he left Inaba, and that was looking like the right course of action if his father had him this much under the microscope. The less he had to worry about his parents, the happier he was going to be. “Keep your praise. I don’t appreciate being watched this much, and you know too much about this as it is. My answer stands: stop asking.”

 

His father’s tone took on a note of finality. “I can see you’re not in the mood to listen, and I have other calls to make tonight. I’m sure that, wherever you are, rent is very expensive. Accept my offer and that won’t be a concern. You’ll have your bills paid, tuition covered, and the start of a career where you belong. This is the best path for you, and as much as you resist it, it is much bigger than your personal concerns.”

 

“I won’t be threatened by you, father,” Souji replied in the same steady voice. “This isn’t your decision anymore.

 

“You know how to contact me when the time comes,” Yuuma replied before the line went dead.

 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Souji told his room as he cut the call and tossed his phone onto the desk, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands, letting out a long breath. It made sense, when he looked at it. It was actually very easy, from conception to execution, for his father to throw a wrench into the works like this. Whether it was through favours and phone calls, or a generous and convenient donation from a ‘local corporate sponsor,’ business deals were things that his father knew only too well. “It must be nice to not have a conscience,” Souji muttered to himself.

 

It was a problem, and one he would need to resolve before classes started. Talking to a few people might get him some leeway where admission deadlines and payment were concerned, but it wouldn’t last. And as much as Souji wanted to bet that his father wouldn’t sabotage the chances for Souji to actually start classes, especially if his aspirations were as high as they seemed, Souji wasn’t ready to risk that Seta Yuuma wouldn’t treat it like a warped test of his skills and push the envelope. And all of that was ignoring the simple realities of rent, food expenses, and that he was new in town and knew very few people who were hiring at the wages he needed.

 

 “Wonderful,” he sighed when he checked the calendar on his desk. He had almost two weeks to replace the funds that came with a full scholarship before the tuition deadline and the drop date. The last time he’d felt the looming shadow of an impending deadline had been when he was saving people from their Shadows. He examined his options and determined to do some digging around, then test the local job market. As much of a dead end as the university was looking like, there were other options. The idea of asking any of the others for help only occurred to him for a second before he dismissed it; there was no way he was getting them involved in this.

 

He was still turning over approaches and ideas when his phone rang again, and when he checked it, the name on the display brought a weak smile to his face. “Hey beautiful,” he said into the receiver when he connected the call. “Settled in yet?”

 

“Almost,” Yukiko told him with a smile in her voice. “We met some new people today, and they offered to show us around this week.”

 

“That’s moving pretty fast,” he commented as he got more comfortable in his chair. “I’m glad you’re making friends.”

 

“That’s… Well, it was a bit unusual, how we met them, but they seem very nice. I think you’d get along well with one of them – she reminded me of you.”

 

Unbidden, the image of what his beloved fiancé had dressed him up as during the cross-dressing contest came to mind, and he had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughs. Without trying she’d already lightened his mood.  “How’s that? White hair and broad shoulders and swinging a sword around?”

 

“No, no, nothing so dramatic,” she giggled back. “She was very calm, though, and seemed comfortable talking to us. And she said she’s in business, too.”

 

“That would do it,” Souji conceded.

 

He was about to ask for more details on the women when Yukiko beat him to the punch. “Are you okay?”

 

Souji stopped his words, not expecting the question. “I’m alright, I guess,” he replied after a moment, not sure where she was coming from. “Tired from moving, but I’m not sick or anything.”

 

“I mean besides that,” she noted. “You seem a bit distracted.”

 

After a moment’s surprise, he wanted to groan and crash his face into the desk. He used to be good at this. Bluffing people and dealing with his problems on his own had been second nature only a few years ago. And much as he loved her, Yukiko hadn’t been able to pick up on his habits even when the investigation was going on. Now she could home in on his tells before he even knew he was showing them.

 

“Souji?”

 

Lying was still an option. And it wouldn’t really be a lie; more of a fib to keep the one subject from his old life that he couldn’t stand away from the life he was putting together now. No matter how much she might want to get involved with his parents, he’d kept them on the fringe of their discussions, and she’d respected that.

 

He heaved a heavy groan into his phone, putting an elbow on his knee and rubbing his face. No, that wouldn’t work. She already knew something was wrong, and blowing her off or keeping the problem to himself would only make things awkward. He had a sinking feeling, when he thought about it, that she’d pay him another visit like she did when he was living in Kofu if he pushed her away. He didn’t know whether she could  afford that or not, and the last thing he wanted was to add to her financial problems, never mind the time it would take.

 

“Souji? Are you alright?”

 

“I’m here,” he replied finally. “Sorry. Thing is, I got a call from my father earlier this evening. It didn’t go very well.”

 

She paused before answering, probably not expecting that. “Oh. Um, what was the problem?”

 

“The usual arguments between us,” Souji told her. He wasn’t going to lie to her, but telling her the whole truth would only worry her. “He’s pushing me to work for someone he knows, probably at an office somewhere, and he’s taking a personal interest in my courses. We’re not coming to an agreement, to put it lightly, and I wasn’t expecting him to call in the first place.”

 

“It’s strange that he called you now,” Yukiko noted. “Or maybe he knew when you were starting classes and planned it that way.”

 

He nodded, rubbing his face. “That’s how it sounds to me. Whatever his faults, he does run things tight when he wants something. So, sorry if you were worried. It’s just that it wasn’t an enjoyable conversation.”

 

“I see. Well, I hope that you can sort things out.”

 

“I will, one way or the other.”

 

“Are the others doing well?”

 

Souji snorted a chuckle. “Well, out accommodations are a lot nicer than I expected, and I ran into some old friends when we got here. By the way, expect a call from Rise in the near future. She went a little nuts when she found out about our engagement.” The novelty of the term was still fresh in Souji’s mind, and it brought a smile to his face as soon as he said it.

 

The way Yukiko paused on the line, she was probably feeling the same way. “I knew she’d be excited about it.”

 

“That’s putting it very mildly. It was all she talked about on the way here, and she wanted every detail she could get. Don’t be surprised if she starts asking you about wedding dress designs and who gets to be the maid of honour next time you talk to her.”

 

“I’ll call her this week.”

 

“Please do. She’ll haunt me here if you don’t.” Souji scratched his cheek and an old conversation came to mind. Something that needed to be looked after. “Actually that reminds me, could I ask for a favour?”

 

“Of course. What do you need?”

 

“I have some things to work out at the university and I’ll be busy for the rest of the day, probably longer. I promised Dojima that I’d tell Nanako about the rings when I got the chance, and I don’t want to leave her waiting for too long. So could you call her and explain things for me?”

 

“That’s… I’m not sure if I’d know what to say to her.”

 

Souji chuckled, already imagining how his cousin would react. He expected to hear the screams of joy from Inaba when she got the news. “I don’t think that you’ll have to say very much. I just don’t want her to start driving the others crazy, and I might not have the time to do it. I can, though, if you’re busy.”

 

“No, it’s alright. I have some time. It’s going to be strange, though – she’ll actually be family in a few years.”

 

“You won’t get any objection from her,” Souji assured as he leaned back in his chair. “If anything she’s probably going to want to come visit you as soon as you give her the news.”

 

That got a bell-tone laugh out of her. “Maybe someday. I should let you go, though. It sounds like you’ve had a long day.”

 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he told her with a shrug. “Rough patches that just need some work, that’s all.”

 

“Right, but don’t be afraid to let me know if you need help. That’s what the others and I are here for.”

 

Souji couldn’t keep the chuckle down. “That’s terrible, Yukiko. You sound like you got that from a fortune cookie.”

 

“Hey!” she protested with a laugh. “It sounded like something you’d say, so you don’t get to tell me my lines are bad.”

 

“I’ll only do it when they are,” he shot back before taking note of the time. “You sound tired though. Everything’s alright there?”

 

“Yep. Things are going well, and I have a good feeling about the ladies we met earlier and Chie’s settled in. We’re doing some sighting seeing in a few days, too.”

 

“Sounds good. Take lots of pictures. Nanako will love you for them. Keep in touch.”

 

“I will,” she chirped before yawning. “I will. You too. Take care.”

 

When they completed their farewells and hung up, Souji turned his phone off for the night and leaned back, staring out his room window with a much lighter heart than he’d had even half an hour ago. For all the grief that his father had given him, the new problems on a ticking time limit that were staring him in the face, she’d given him a levity that he wouldn’t have had otherwise. As daunting as the problems were, they felt less so with the memory of her voice in his ears, and that left him with a smile on his face as he shut his room lights off.

 

“Thanks, Yukiko.”

 

\---

 

“How long has Souji not gotten along with his dad?” Yoshiro asked two days later. The student in question had bowed out of joining them after telling them what was going on with his school situation and left the apartment early that morning. The others had finished familiarizing themselves with each other and were now intent to see the sights, on their way down the street toward what the restaurant websites called the best ramen place in town. Yoshiro was walking next to Kou and Yosuke while Rise and Megumi were chatting about something girly. “He’s never talked about his family to us before.”

 

“That’s not just you,” Yosuke replied, switching songs on his music player and straightening out his headphones so he could hear his tunes without putting the ‘phones on. “He never talks about his parents to us. We’ve met his uncle and his cousin, and they’re pretty cool, but nothing about anyone else. Yukiko-san’s probably the only person who knows more about that, aside from the rest of his family. But I don’t know how long this has been a problem for him. He’s never brought it up before.”

 

“I know that his parents went overseas for a while, which is why he came to Inaba in the first place,” Kou added, hands in his pockets, steps calm and steady. “He made a lot of waves as the new transfer student, but he didn’t really talk about where he came from.”

 

“What about his mother?” Yoshiro tried, polishing his phone screen before snapping it back into its holder on his waist. “Does she come into the picture at all?”

 

“Nope,” Yosuke told him simply. “Not that we’ve heard, anyway. I hear that Yukiko-san went to visit Souji when he was still living in Kofu, but she didn’t mention having met anyone from his family. And I think she would’ve mentioned it if she’d met his parents.”

 

“That’s too bad,” Megumi mentioned with a small frown. “It would have been nice to meet her if she came all that way.”

 

“Nanako-chan talks about her aunt sometimes,” Rise offered, stepping forward to join the conversation. The starlet was dressed in her usual ‘classy-casual’ with a minimum of make-up on, just enough to highlight the beauty she already had. With so little flare around her, no one on the streets called to her or asked for autographs. “Izumi-san, I think. But that’s all she knew, so I don’t know whether they don’t talk much or what.”

 

Megumi nodded but said nothing, a distant look in her eye.

 

Kou gave a long sigh. “The whole situation sucks. Souji made so many friends back home that it’s hardly fair for him to get the shaft when it comes to his parents.”

 

“If there’s anything that’ll get you, though, it’s parents,” Yoshiro replied, his mouth setting in a line as he looked toward the street. Megumi’s hand cupped around one of his clenched fists.

 

Kou and Rise glanced at each other, clearly curious, but Yosuke shook his head and held a hand out. “Everyone has their demons,” he commented, looking to the pair then back to Rise. “Souji’s no different.”

 

Kou turned to Yosuke, puzzled and with a question on his lips, then back to Yoshiro before understanding came over his eyes. “That’s a good point. So, Yoshiro-san, is the ramen at this place as good as you say?”

 

Yoshiro was quiet for a bit longer, but nodded to them with his usual smile and led the way, Megumi’s hand in his own. “Yep. Not too much further.” Yosuke and Rise exchanged a knowing look and followed, talking gossip and about her latest CD and schedule and trying to keep the mood light. When they got to the restaurant and grabbed a table, the grim mood had passed and soon they were exchanging war stories from their respective schools. Kou and Yoshiro became intent on outdoing each other on the luckiest, laziest, and most ridiculous shots they had ever taken from the free-throw line. Megumi was too busy enjoying her ramen and the _gyouza_ on the side to comment much.

 

“What else is there to do around here, Rise?” Yosuke asked as Megumi was talking to Kou about the coaches she’d dealt with in her second year. “Seems like a place this big would have everything.”

 

“It does,” she confirmed. “Whatever you’re looking for is probably one block over. There’s a pretty cool game center a little ways from here, and they have bowling alleys and batting cages nearby too. Did you have anything in mind?”

 

Yosuke shuffled his chair away from the basketball fans a bit, giving them their privacy as he leaned on the table to speak easier. “Music stores? Dance clubs? I’m sure there have to be a few around, right?”

 

Rise leaned in close as well and gave him a grin like she’d just won a year’s worth of chocolate sundaes. “Best ones in the prefecture. Do you just browse, senpai? Or do you buy real CDs?”

 

Yosuke gave her a return grin. “Ladies first,” he told her with a gallant sweep of his hand. “Do you prefer digital or analog?”

 

Rise giggled, her eyes sparkling. “I used to collect CDs whenever I got the chance. And I’d meet the artists on interview shows or in concert lineups, so I always got autographed copies. But I always seem to lose something when I move, so now I keep the ones I have at home and download the stuff I really like. It’s easier that way, and less of a PR hassle when people ask which bands I like if they see me with signed stuff, but I like CDs when I can get them. Your turn.”

 

Yosuke pulled his own music player from his belt and setting it on the table. “I used to use CD players whenever I could, but when we started…” he glanced to the others then back to her, “well, when Souji moved to Inaba, it was too tricky to have them on and move around as much as I needed to, so I had to leave the CDs at home.  That’s all I listen to when I have the choice, though.”

 

“Is there a specific reason?” Rise inquired, head tilted and one of her pigtails brushing her shoulder. “The only guys I know who do what you do are pretty hardcore into collecting, or they’re big on their music equipment.”

 

Yosuke shrugged and gave a dismissive brush of his hand. “I’m not a tech junkie in that sense. It was bad enough paying the shipping charges to get CDS sent to Inaba without adding amp wires and bigger speakers to the bill. Not to mention that there’s not enough room in my whole house if I wanted to buy all the latest mixer boards and music decks. I just collect the stuff I like, which happens to be a lot. And I like CDs because you don’t always get the art books and comments from the artists online.”

 

“A lot of singers I know like putting stuff in the CD books,” Rise told him, lips quirking up in a smile. “They say it adds a personal touch if they know the fans are reading their stuff. Voice actors are the same way, I hear.”

 

“How about you? Do you like putting something special in your CD cases?”

 

“When I can.” There was a fond, faraway quality to her smile that reminded him of the girl who’d joined him in pestering Teddie when he was supposed to be working. “I’d like to keep that up for as long as I can.”

 

The wistful tone in her voice made him tilt his head in confusion. “You’re not having problems like before, are you?”

 

“No no, nothing like that. It’s just that someone I looked up to, a singer who was in her prime when I started up, is going to retire soon. And when I was taking time off in Inaba, Kanamin was there to take my place.”

 

“Try to take your place,” Yosuke corrected. “She didn’t, and I don’t know if she could.”

 

“Awww, thanks senpai. That’s really sweet. I’m not depressed about it, though. I love my work, love my fans, and I want to keep going for as long as I can. I know the industry, though, and it runs on marketable talent. And I hope that I can do this for a while, you know?”

 

“You will,” Yosuke assured her. “You’re still on the way up. Worry about all that stuff after you’ve jumped the shark.”

 

“Right. Thanks, senpai. You sound like you know your music, by the way. Is that why you’re going to college?”

 

“I’d like to. Haven’t decided yet. There’s always Junes, but I don’t think I’m manager material, and I’d hate to get transferred to wherever because head office says so. I’m in open studies for now so I can see what it’s like, and I’ll make a decision about it later.”

 

“That’s smart. I’d like to go to university when I’m done showbiz. Somewhere with a good music program.”

 

“I’ll let you know how it is if I get there.”

 

“Well, that was good,” Yoshiro told them as he finished a second bowl of ramen. “How about it? Were there any places you guys wanted to–” He stopped speaking and turned to look over Kou, standing and looking out the restaurant window.

 

Kou looked at him and then turned to try and see what had caught his attention. All he saw were the people on the sidewalk and the street traffic beyond them. “Something wrong?”

 

Yoshiro was silent for a moment, looking up and down the street before he shook his head and sat back down. “Nothing wrong, no. I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

 

Megumi looked out the window before turning back to him. “Who was it?”

 

“I’m not sure. It just felt like I’d seen them before, but I can’t think of how or why. If that’s the case, it must not have been anything serious.”

 

Kou looked at the teen, then out the window one more time. Nothing out of the ordinary. “Was there anywhere else we were going to go? Seems like a waste to spend the day at the apartment.”

 

“I got a map of the area from that tourist booth a few blocks back,” Yosuke told them, showing the pamphlet in question. “I think I’ll find some of the places on here before I head back. Rise said she’d show me to some good dance and music clubs in the area too.”

 

The young lady in question perked up and nodded. “That’s right. You might not get the chance to look around once your classes start. Did you guys want to come with?”

 

“I’m game,” Yoshiro replied.

 

Megumi looked at the area map, tapping a nail on the ‘clothes store’ markings before nodding to herself. “So am I.”

 

“I guess we’re decided,” Kou concluded, calling for the bills. Once they were settled, the group went back out into the bright summer of Fujisawa.

 

Yosuke hung back a little, noticing how Kou was getting along with their new friends and how Rise sparkled at their side. Classy, funny, and always lively and energetic. He’d forgotten how much she’d brought to Inaba when they’d rescued her.

 

Yeah, he thought as he stepped forward to join the conversation. This was a pretty good deal. However long their studies lasted and whatever changed, he was sure that the next few years were going to be fun.

 

\---

 

Inaba wasn’t the same without her Big Bro. She’d thought as much the first time he left, but nothing made it easier when the upstairs room stayed totally quiet and she couldn’t have his French toast or Belgian waffles for breakfast. And without Yosuke-san, Chie-san, Kou-san or her Big Sis, things felt even quieter.

 

Not that Dojima Nanako was without friends to play with. Her classmates were still talking to her about her Big Bro and all the friends he had, like Kanji-san and all the cool stuff he could make. She’d told her teacher him and now a platypus family made out of some cans, a milk carton, and a bunch of straws lived in the corner of her classroom. And Naoto-san had been visiting and calling, coming by to talk to Dad about work stuff, and she always stayed around to talk to Nanako for a while when she could. Sometimes she brought Kanji-san along and didn’t ask for Dad at all, and they all went to the river together to meet Teddie.

 

But it hadn’t even been a week yet and the house felt empty. Dad was going to be home late, there was nothing on TV, the laundry was done and she’d eaten her dinner and cleaned the dishes, and now sat on the couch with nothing else to do. Even when Big Bro was doing his homework or working at night, she’d known he was around. When he’d been making envelopes and building models, sometimes he would invite her up to his room to help him. Just like before, though, she would have to get used to the house being a bit emptier. Maybe she’d go to bed early, she thought. Or read some of the books her Big Bro and Big Sis gave her before leaving.

 

The phone started ringing, and Nanako got off the couch and walked to its cradle. She’d seen Dad jump up and stub his toe on the table lots of times when he was sleeping on the couch or when the phone surprised him. It looked like it hurt, so she was always careful when moving around the table corners.

 

“Hello? This is the Dojima residence,” she said into the phone when she picked it up.

 

“Hi, Nanako-chan,” a happy, familiar voice responded. “Did I catch you at a good time?”

 

Nanako immediately perked up, holding the phone in both hands so she wouldn’t let it go. “Hi Big Sis! Yeah, this is a good time. Thanks for calling!”

 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss the chance. How’s everyone been since we left?”

 

Nanako walked back over to sit on the couch and began telling her Big Sis about Teddie and Kanji-san and Naoto-san. Several minutes passed as Nanako covered everything, but she always got encouragement from the young woman on the line when she paused to think of what else was going on.

 

“That’s wonderful,” Big Sis told her when she mentioned talking to the blond lady that she’d met at Big Bro’s graduation. “I’m glad everything’s going well.”

 

“Yep! How about you?”

 

There was a small ‘hmm’ before the answer came. “We’ve made some new friends, and I know Souji’s settled in at Fujisawa. Rise-chan’s been visiting him there too, so I’m sure she’d be glad to hear from you.”

 

“Really? Thanks! I’ll call her tomorrow. But do you think she’d be alright with me calling? I’d feel bad if I interrupted her when she’s singing or talking to people.”

 

“It’ll be alright. You can leave a message if she’s not there.” Big Sis cleared her throat just then. “Hey Nanako-chan, did Souji… well, did he seem strange before he left? Like he was working on something and he wasn’t telling anyone else about it?”

 

Nanako perked up at the question. “Yeah, he did! Him and Dad were talking about something, but they said I had to wait and see what it was when I asked. And Kanji-san and Naoto-san didn’t know about it when I asked them. Did he tell you about it? Could you tell me?”

 

“I guess you could say that he told me about it,” Big Sis told her with a laugh. She always had a pretty laugh. “What he was talking to Dojima-san about was some rings he bought while we were still in Inaba.”

 

“Rings?” Nanako frowned in thought. They didn’t have many jewelry boxes in the house. Just some earrings and bracelets that Mom had worn before she died. Dad had promised to let Nanako wear them when she got through middle school. “That’s weird. Big Bro doesn’t wear jewelry like that.”

 

“Well, one of them was for me. He asked me to marry him, Nanako-chan.”

 

Marry? Like what her Mom and Dad– “Really?!” she squealed, bouncing on the couch and trembling with excitement. “You’re gonna get married?!”

 

“Not right away, but when we’re done at university, yes.”

 

“So you’ll be my Big Sis for real?! Wait, does that mean you’ll live with Big Bro in his room? I can keep it clean until you get back. Will it be big enough for both of you?” The house had been big enough for her and Big Bro and Dad, but Big Sis too? It might get a little… No, Nanako told herself, that was fine. Big Sis could sleep with her if Big Bro had too much stuff in his room or something.

 

Big Sis was laughing again. “We haven’t decided where we’re going to live yet. There are still a lot of decisions to be made and details that we need to work out. I’ll be working at the Inn, remember? But Souji has something to look after right now, and he wanted me to give you the news.”

 

“Thanks! This is… Well, it’s really great! I’ve never had a bigger sister for real before. Will it be different from how we usually are?”

 

“I don’t think so,” she told the girl. “We got along before I left, so I think we’ll do even better when I come back. Or maybe if you and Dojima-san come to Kyoto, I can show you around. Would that be alright?”

 

Nanako swayed back and forth, dancing in place on the couch when she heard the offer. “I’d love that! I’ll tell Dad about it when he comes home. Do they have a Junes in Kyoto?”

 

Big Sis gave an ‘mmm hmm,’ in reply. “There’s more than one, I think. Kyoto’s a lot bigger than Inaba.”

 

“Then maybe we can go to the different Juneses and see if they’re different from the one here.”

 

“We should do that,” Big Sis encouraged. “We can bring Chie along. By the way Nanako-chan, do you have a cell phone yet?”

 

Nanako wilted a little. She’d seen some of the phones that her friends were carrying already, and Kanji-san had said he’d help make her a case and some decorations for her when she got one, but… “Not yet. Dad’s been talking about getting me one in case I need to call him, but he’s been busy with work.”

 

“Alright. But you have my number, right?”

 

“Um… I think so.” Big Sis gave the number when Nanako couldn’t find it, and once Nanako had it she put it on the desk in her room, putting her cat paperweight on it to mark it as important. “There. I won’t lose it this time.”

 

“If you have any questions about things, you can always call me. You know, if there are things that you can’t talk to Dojima-san about.”

 

“Okay. Like if I don’t know what kinds of dresses to buy for school?”

 

“Things like that, yeah. And when you get a phone, I’ll send you pictures of what Kyoto looks like. It’s beautiful here.”

 

“Thanks, Big Sis. Did you want me to start looking for churches where you can have your wedding? Maki-chan’s mom got married last year, and she said it took a long time to make all the plans. Things like food and clothes and the big party. Can I help with that?”

 

Big Sis laughed again, and the next half hour was spent talking about everything they could. When Nanako said her goodbyes and hung up the phone, she had a smile on her face like she hadn’t had since her Big Bro left. Talking to Big Sis reminded her of when everyone came to visit for her birthday back in October. Naoto-san and Kanji-san had shown up first, then Teddie and Yosuke-san, and finally Chie-san and Big Sis. Everyone had brought something for them to have for dinner, but Big Sis and Chie-san had needed help getting through the door because they were bringing a huge plate of fresh sushi. Everyone else seemed surprised, and when Dad asked how much it had cost, Big Sis said ‘It’s for Nanako-chan’s birthday.’

 

Nanako smiled when she remembered that night, everyone having fun and playing games, and it was easy to forget that Rise-chan and Big Bro weren’t there, especially when the presents came out. Each person had gotten her something, and Nanako had never had sushi that good before, so she wasn’t expecting anything from Big Sis. But she’d gotten a smile – Big Sis always had a really pretty smile – and got to keep the _maneki-neko_ figurine that came with the fish. Nanako had been careful with it since then and now it was on the piece of paper she’d written Big Sis’s number on. It hadn’t been fair that she was always getting presents from everyone, so she’d gone around and given each of them the best hug and ‘thank you’ that she could. Big Sis had hugged her back and brushed her hair with her hand, reminding Nanako of Mom, and that had been the best present she’d ever gotten.

 

The young Dojima nodded to herself and closed up the house before going to bed, thinking of all the things she wanted to ask Dad the next time she saw him. Even if Big Sis said that there was lots of time before the wedding, Nanako wanted to make sure she did the best she could to help.

 

\---

 

Ever since she’d taken her first business class and out shined her peers at every turn, Seta Izumi had never experienced the ‘glass ceiling’ so many of her colleagues complained about.  Whether she had needed her contacts, her skills, or just a healthy dose of determination, her rise at her company had been steady and unbroken, and she’d worked hard to keep it that way. Layoffs, passovers, dead-end transfers, those were what _other_ people dealt with, and she’d promised herself on the graduation platform that the only way she was leaving her career was with a generous severance package.

 

Now, though, those thoughts felt more and more like illusions as thin as gift wrapping. Her calls had gone unanswered and she was waiting with fraying patience as new faces, young enough to belong to her son, became more and more common on her floor. A few were polite enough to introduce themselves – the rest ignored her or came in only to give her a condescending leer that she’d seen so often that the cold, wordless stare she gave in return was a reflex.

 

Nakai, her superior, had always been good to her. He’d given her the space she needed, the hours she wanted, and the people she requested to get his projects done with perfection ahead of any deadline. They’d had an excellent working relationship for years and their careers had benefitted like neither would have imagined. His recent announcement of retirement, therefore, had blindsided her. The first response that came to mind, and indeed the first one she’d sent him, was _‘Very funny. Enjoy your vacation, and I’ll see you in two weeks.’_

 

_‘It’s not a joke. Your Tuesday afternoon is free – we need to talk,’_ had killed off her humour like a spark in cold water. “You’ve heard of Suto-san,” he’d told her when they met, getting her a coffee and leaning back with a loose tie and the top button of his shirt undone for the first time in all her years of knowing him. “He’s rising fast and making waves. The higher-ups want him here and there’s no telling them otherwise.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Besides, Akari has been asking me to take on fewer hours, and I don’t know if I’ll get any higher now. It’s been a great run, Izumi-kun, but I think this is the last stop. Besides, there are things we want to do before we’re too old to have the chance.”

 

“You’ve never given up before,” she’d protested. “And you’ve outlasted all the other fast-risers. Suto-san will over extend or make mistakes, and he’ll need you to be there. Leaving now costs you everything you’ve achieved.”

 

“I knew you’d say that. But I’m not convinced,” he told her simply. “Directors and department managers have come and gone, yes, but this time around feels different. It feels a lot bigger than anything before. He made me an offer, and I’m going to take it. If he makes one to you, I’d suggest the same.”

 

She shook her head, amazed at how docile the man, with whom she’d worked for more than a decade, looked now. “I’m not done yet. If the offer is large enough, maybe, but jumping ship now isn’t in the cards.”

 

There was a wistful tone in Nakai’s voice as he looked at her, reminding her of her father a few years after he’d retired. “You’ve put in more hours here than I have. No one, not a single person, can say the same. But everything has a shelf life, and when it’s our time to go, then it’s our time.”

 

“I respect your decision,” she told him after several long seconds of uncomfortable silence. “But I won’t be following your lead this time. Not until I know more.”

 

“I expect nothing less, and regardless of your decision, I and the others will give you glowing recommendations. If you want to talk, my door’s open.”

 

She’d risen and bowed, not saying a word when she got back to her office. Regardless of what she told herself, despite her self-assurances, she couldn’t stop the niggling little voice in the back of her mind that told her the ground she stood on was less like concrete and more like water now.

 

That had been almost a week ago, and she’d just gotten a call from Suto-san to come and talk to him. Chafing at the delay and the drop in work she’d been assigned lately, she nonetheless straightened her jacket out, wove through the piles of papers and reports erected into leaning monuments to corporate record keeping, and walked down the middle of the hallway to his office, not moving to the side as more than one unknown puffed-up secretary or file manager tried to brush her to the side.

 

But, again, she had to wait when she arrived at his office. Refusing to sit like a small-name client, she stood and looked around the new office area, in the middle of being redecorated. She sniffed in disdain as she took in the meagre details of the place. The corporate magazines and stock reports on the waiting area table were out of date, the coffee pot had gone cold, and the girl behind the desk looked up at her every few seconds like she was hoping Izumi would have left. It was easy to see why: the girl’s hands were trembling toward her _beep_ ing phone.

 

“Are you waiting for Suto-san?” a deep voice asked from a nearby door. “He’s busy.”

 

Izumi looked over to the man she didn’t know and bit down a grimace. “I was invited to meet him,” she replied calmly, turning to look at Suto-san’s door again and hoping the new face would get the message.

 

If there was anything the new ones liked doing more than getting the names of the attractive secretaries, though, it was making sure everyone they didn’t know had a keen knowledge of their name, title, department, and status in the company. And knowing who was beneath them in case they wanted to bully someone. “You’re Seta, right?”

 

“Seta Izumi, yes,” she replied looking over at him and barely moving her head. “Corporate investment and client relations.”

 

He didn’t go back into his office. No, of course he wouldn’t. He came out and stood barely two feet away, looking down on her from his perch of no more than five feet, four inches like he was on the president’s own pedestal. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Hear you’re a lifer.”

 

Izumi blinked twice and didn’t adjust the dull apathy in her voice. “I suppose.”

 

“I’m Sugimoto Arata,” he told her, drawing each syllable out like she’d forgotten his name before and he’d be testing her on it later. “Suto-san’s right-hand man. Just asking: haven’t you found a husband here yet?”

 

A layer of frost fell over her features, and her healthy supply of patience suddenly sprang a dozen leaks. It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked that question – Japanese women ‘didn’t have’ careers. They worked to support their husbands, or to find one at work and quietly recede into the wallpaper, packing said husband’s lunch and bringing him his socks in the morning and staying home to raise the children they were expected to pop out right away. No, it wasn’t the first time Izumi had been faced with those questions, and her responses over the years had gotten more and more succinct. Instead of explaining herself, she held up her left hand, fingers straight and spread.

 

“Yeah,” Sugimoto said after seeing her wedding ring. “So? No kids? Husband broke?”

 

“That’s none of your business,” she told him coldly. “I’m not here to impress you, or answer your derogatory questions. Kindly find out where Suto-san is so I can speak to him, or stop bothering me.”

 

He snorted and sneered, trying to push her over with his cheap, oily cologne. “Things are changing here, lady. Make sure you know your place.”

 

“Agreed,” a new voice commented from behind Sugimoto. “People should know their places, especially when addressing their superiors or those with decades of experience.”

 

Sugimoto went whiter than the wall plaster and straightened so fast he almost overbalanced and fell over. Izumi stepped back and turned to the newcomer with an assessing eye.

 

Suto Hachiro, because that’s the only person who could have had such an effect on the self-important windbag, looked exactly like she expected from an up-and-coming department manager, just without the arrogance. Collar and cuffs buttoned, tie straight, shirt and jacket ironed, hair combed back and a canny intelligence behind his gold-rimmed glasses, he bowed politely to her once he was around Sugimoto, and Izumi returned the bow without reservation. That he was easily ten years younger than her didn’t even cross her mind – he was already a saint compared to who she’d been dealing with.

 

“Suto-san,” Sugimoto squeaked, his bluster now a weak breeze, “I… I…”

 

“Our senpai are our teachers and guides, no matter their history or their sex. Some women fit outside the standard mould of the office, and I, for one, applaud Seta-san’s dedication to the company. And you, Sugimoto Arata, you were going to refill the coffee pot and make sure to accommodate our guests, whether they are clients or coworkers, when anyone has questions so they have a good impression of us,” Suto-san supplied. “Right?”

 

To Izumi’s growing humour, though she was too professional to let it show, the man looked ready offer a finger in penance for the chance to get away from him. “Of course.”

 

“Excellent. Now excuse us. And head office called – those reports need to be done by tomorrow morning. All of them.”

 

There was a defeated look to Sugimoto’s eyes now, and he was too busy staring at the carpet to even glance at Izumi. “Y… yes sir.”

 

“Good man. Look after them. Seta-san, my deepest apologies for being late. Please, come in.”

 

She followed him in and looked around, seeing signs of redecoration and moving, a too-bare feel that all new offices had. The essentials were there, though: chairs, a dark oak desk, a phone and computer screens, and a healthy supply of scratch pads and pens. His diplomas and commendations only took up a small corner of the wall instead of the entire thing. “Thank you for responding to my calls,” she told him, sitting straight in one of the supplied chairs. For the renovated look of the place, the seats were appropriately comfortable.

 

“I am sorry for Sugimoto’s display,” he told her when he was settled in his chair, looking at her from across the table without the pomp or airs of his associate. “That was beyond uncalled for.”

 

“He’s not the first person to say those things to me,” Izumi replied in a neutral voice. “I heard those lines every week when I was his age, and from people much higher up than him. You handled him well, though, and it’s encouraging that you think outside the box like that.”

 

“There is a place for such traditions and viewpoints,” he noted with his hands in front of his stomach, fingers laced together, “but to label you like that would be insulting, especially since your record speaks for itself. Which is why you were calling, I presume.”

 

Izumi felt a flutter of unease at how prepared he was for her visit. She’d been in that position before, and she very rarely had to plan ahead when delivering good news. “That’s correct. Nakai-san’s retirement was a surprise, and you taking his place will cause changes here. If you’re able to talk about them, I’m curious about what those changes would entail.”

 

“And your place in the new operations,” he finished for her, smiling but letting out a breath. “There is no easy way to say this, and perhaps you could teach me how to do it, Seta-san. The direction I am taking this department in will differ from Nakai-san’s projection. Differ quite a bit. In the interest of that, I will be recruiting new talent to make the transition as smooth and seamless as possible, to make those goals realities as soon as possible. Your record is an inspiration to us, to me, and I mean that with complete honesty. But as far as advancing your own ambitions, I don’t see how that will accommodate my objectives.”

 

Izumi sat still, processing everything. To his credit, Suto-san had broken the news to her well. But the details were somewhere between the flattery and the business-speak, and she lived for precise details. “Please be clear,” she told him, taking a few breaths so as not to sound curt or ungrateful. “Are you offering me a severance package? Telling me my job is in danger?”

 

“No. And no. The department is undergoing a restructuring rather than cuts, so very few are being offered a severance. That might change in the future, but not now. And I wouldn’t fire you at this point, perhaps not at all if you adjusted enough. You’ve proven to be very resourceful in the past.”

 

The obvious question was left hanging, and Izumi pursued it when he didn’t say anything. “But? There are other positions, assistant manager spots opening up during this restructuring, right? Places where I can help with your new ideas.”

 

He nodded before straightening in his chair and looking at her square on. “I had considered that. Of all the current employees, I would have kept you first. But regarding the promotions you are talking about, they were open before now.”

 

She blinked, processing his implication and realizing, with horror, that the glass ceiling had finally reached her. He wasn’t taking her job away, but the tall ladder of advancement that she’d been climbing since before Souji was born had suddenly run out of rungs. “You’re passing me over.”

 

“Yes, I am.” Straightforward and succinct, but his eyes held a touch of regret in the deep intelligence and drive. “Budget demands and respective talents require certain people to be above you. I hope you understand.”

 

She kept quiet by biting her tongue, seeing the logic and rationale before her eyes at supercomputer speed. Younger managers were always preferred in business – they had fresh ideas and less experience so they would cost less to keep on. She’d seen it before and had thought herself above it. Something else she’d been wrong about. But it wouldn’t do to cry and plead her case when the news was fresh. She needed her space, and she cleared her throat after a moment. “Of course. Please excuse me, I need to think about this.”

 

“I understand. Thank you for your time.”

 

Izumi made it back to her office and put a hold on all her calls, turning on her chair and staring at the ceiling in a daze. There had been rumours of restructuring in the company for years, but never more than that. She’d been too successful, too untouchable, to be worried about it, and she’d been working from deadline to deadline for so long that the twelve-hour days had become natural. She’d been irreplaceable. And she still was, she realized, with all her experience and clients. But if Suto-san’s plans followed their course, and he didn’t seem like the sort to let them stray, then her wings had been clipped. Her mind told her that her job would remain hers, that this was just a shift in a new direction, but was the status quo really enough?

 

Two weeks passed since Nakai had retired and her intuition was only being proven. The lack of detailed jobs, the new contacts calling around the office, the vacuum-wrapped equipment, the messages coming down from the top; it all felt like change, and this time she was being left behind. Her workload had eased off as her projects wrapped up, and she felt off-balance without something new on the horizon. It had taken a while to come up with ideas of what to do with her spare time, but she’d begun to take her full lunch breaks, and the past few days she’d made it out of the office by 6:30pm.

 

She’d just gotten back from a teleconference with some clients, those who’d wanted her input specifically, when Hitomi-chan peeked into her office. The day had been a standout for Izumi, but the euphoria of being needed was short-lived, and work felt like prolonging the inevitable instead of the welcome challenge from before. Had she always been this competitive? Was her career so important to her that having a job didn’t feel like enough? Her musings were cut off when the young woman navigated the piles of paper in the back office easily, a bundle in her hands and an uncomfortable look on her face.

 

“Is everything alright?” Izumi asked. It wasn’t often that Hitomi-chan had problems with their clients, knowing most of them and adapting quickly to the rest.

 

“Fine, Seta-san,” the pretty woman replied quickly, a smile turning up cheeks that were rosy red every other week when her husband ‘kept her from getting to work early.’ “Um, I thought you should know, your brother called while you were away. The police detective?”

 

Ryo. Of course. Izumi groaned and rubbed her face, cursing herself for forgetting to return his multitude of calls and texts. “I’m sorry if he gave you trouble. That’s my fault.”

 

Hitomi-chan was quick to assure her, “It’s no problem. He was… quite insistent this time, though. I think that he had a bad call-in when Aomori-san was covering for me. He wanted to be sure that you got a particular picture, and I apologize for seeing it, but if you take it then I can tell him I held up my end of the bargain.”

 

Izumi’s eyes narrowed when she stood. “He shouldn’t be harassing you, Hitomi-chan. I’ll talk to him about that.” She took the stack from her secretary and began leafing through the sheets and folders in it. “Which one did he want me to…”

 

It was impossible to miss what Ryo had wanted her to see. Printed in high-colour ink, sharpened on an 8½  by 11 sheet made for graphs and pictures, was a photo of Souji embracing a girl Izumi had never seen before. The young woman wore a striking red kimono with a sakura branch design on the sleeves, and her pale skin and glossy hair screamed of a rare elegance. Souji’s arms were around her, clearly familiar, and though his face was partially hidden behind the girl’s black hair, Izumi knew that he was smiling. The girl didn’t mind the contact given that her hands were on his own, holding them around her with closed eyes. The snow, the lamps from the shrine behind them, and the bright moonlight all around gave the picture a timeless quality, like it was taken somewhere not connected with the problems of the world.

 

“She’s beautiful,” Izumi murmured, unaware that she was speaking out loud as the other files fell to her desk.

 

“I thought so too,” Hitomi-chan commented, straightening the papers before stepping around to look at the photo, then at Izumi. “Do you know who she is? You didn’t mention Souji-kun having a girlfriend.”

 

_Because I didn’t know._ The words were stopped by the cold realization of how honest they were. She’d never seen her son this happy. She didn’t know he had someone he could feel this comfortable with. She didn’t recognize the shrine in the background, so it must have been in Inaba, and the snow around them told her the picture had been taken during Christmas or New Year’s, but when she thought back to the conversations they’d had since he came back from Inaba, nothing stood out to tell her he was in a relationship with someone. “Do you know when this was sent, Hitomi-chan?”

 

“Dojima-san started calling about it back in January,” was the swift reply. “It was only in June that he started getting insistent.”

 

“And that was all he said? That he wanted me to see this?”

 

“And to call him when you did.”

 

She’d been missing this. She’d been brushing this off the entire time. “I see. Thank you.”

 

“For what it’s worth, ma’am, congratulations. Souji-kun seems to have found a very nice girl.”

 

Izumi nodded, and Hitomi-chan excused herself. If she hadn’t left, she would have seen her respected senpai stare at the picture for minutes on end, a look of bewildered surprise on her face. And the hand holding the picture was rock steady.

 

She couldn’t concentrate on anything after that. Paperwork, filing, phone calls, everything reflected her distracted mind. She didn’t have any meetings planned that couldn’t be moved to a different time, so Seta Izumi did something she hadn’t done in longer than she could remember: she went home early. She was in their apartment before rush hour started, her briefcase and coat somewhere not on her couch, and the photo had only left her hand when she was on the subway. On the way back she’d listened to all the messages Ryo had sent her, his mounting frustration clear as a cat’s bell the newer the time stamps got. It made sense, given what he’d been trying to tell her for half a year. He’d even told her that Souji was seeing someone, and she’d been too busy to pay attention.

 

But the chewing-out she was likely to get from her brother wasn’t what stayed her hand this time. She held her phone and had been staring at Souji’s number in her contact list for longer than she could recall as she glanced back and forth, from it to the picture and back again. How content he looked, how happy he made the girl in the photo, and how little she knew about any of this. She wanted to call him. She wanted an answer. No, answers. Who the girl was. When they’d met. Where she was when Souji was at university, and why Izumi was learning about it now. Her thumb twitched on the ‘call’ button more than once.

 

And every time, she froze. She looked at the picture and realized how much like a stranger her son looked. She thought back to Ryo’s comments when she’d talked to him after Souji had come back from his trip, how angry they had made her, and found the ire empty now. How could she be angry at him when a single picture, a fraction of a moment in time, raised an ocean of doubts? How could she justify calling Souji and asking for answers when she heard the same question in her mind, over and over, in Ryo’s voice and her own:

 

_How well do you know your own son?_


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

 

“That’s wonderful, Nanako-chan,” Naoto told the ecstatic girl, laughing quietly at the rapid-fire questions and the number of times she heard “Big Bro’s getting married!” While the possibility of impending matrimony had crossed her mind when she’d been thinking about what Souji-senpai might have been in debt to Dojima-san for, she hadn’t expected his cousin to call her at the break of dawn to confirm her suspicions. Not that she minded; it was always a pleasure to speak to the girl. “I’m sure he’ll call you soon.”

 

“I’m really glad it’s to Big Sis,” Nanako-chan asserted, the modulations and shifts in her tone and pitch suggesting she was bouncing up and down on a couch or a chair. “They’re always really happy together, and you could tell Big Sis missed him when he went back home. Actually, whenever people tell me about Dad and Mom, they say he was always really happy when she was around. Are you going to get married someday, Naoto-san?”

 

Naoto laughed again, loving the girl’s candor. After weeks of working with police detectives and interviewing witnesses, unrestrained honesty was a cold glass of unsweetened lemonade on a hot summer day. And despite her age, Nanako-chan’s questions were never dull, and Naoto couldn’t help but be honest. When she’d first come to Inaba, an inquiry about something as personal as her future marriage prospects might have surprised her, but now it was expected from the girl who had become the cornerstone of the “Inaba Crew” as Yosuke-senpai called them. “I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “If I meet the right person and have a suitable opportunity, then I might get married. But that won’t be for a long time yet.”

 

“I hope you do,” Nanako-chan chirped. “If you did, then you could be happy like Big Sis is.”

 

Naoto shook her head and kept the argument that people could be very happy without getting married to herself. Saying that Yukiko-senpai and Souji-senpai had, comparatively speaking, beaten the odds by finding their soul mates at all, let alone so early in life, would put a damper on the girl’s day, and Naoto was in too good a mood for that.

 

Not only that, but she knew, from her fledgling female intuition to her honed detective’s instincts, that Souji-senpai and Yukiko-senpai were more than a “statistical anomaly.” The first time she’d seen them together outside of Marukyu Tofu, walking side by side with the others arguing in the distance, she’d felt that there was something between them. The way Yukiko-senpai leaned toward him, ever so slightly. How Souji-senpai had eyed the strange detective while stepping, probably without being aware of it, in front of the black-haired girl like he meant to protect her from whatever came at them. From what Naoto knew of them now, that had been before their announcement that they were dating, but even back then , the hints were there.

 

And while Yukiko-senpai didn’t seem to remember them, her actions at Club Escapade spoke for themselves. Sitting across Souji-senpai’s lap and giggling while leaning against him until Chie-senpai pulled her back to her seat was the antithesis of subtlety, and his expression, a mix of bewilderment and tender care under a rare blush, had been a definite first for the in-control leader. And when their evening came to an end and they were left with the conundrum of how to get two intoxicated persons under legal age back to the hotel, Souji-senpai had offered to help Yukiko-senpai by slowly lifting her to her feet. She’d come awake for a moment before smiling, Naoto remembered fondly, like a drunken fool and wrapping her arms around his neck and saying something that had sounded like “soooo stroong,” before burrowing into his shoulder and giggling to herself. She had even lifted her legs to curl around him, which had forced him to pick her up bridal style in front of everyone.

 

It was readily apparent that Souji-senpai hadn’t known what to do, only reminded of their destination when Chie-senpai had offered to take the girl. Senpai had refused, an amalgamation of emotions on his face when he looked at Yukiko-senpai while the arms and hands supporting her were rock steady. Yosuke-senpai had said something about a cold shower before Chie-senpai kicked him as they helped the inebriated Rise-san to her feet and tried to manage the stairs, the starlet snoring and lolling back and forth.

 

Even back then, there seemed to be so little they couldn’t do together, and to chalk it up to a statistical anomaly was beneath them, she knew. “We’ll see what happens, Nanako-chan,” Naoto told the girl as she came out of her memories. “Life can change in some very strange ways before we know it.”

 

“Big Bro always says that,” Nanako-chan told her. “Like how one time he– Hm? Okay… Okay Dad, I will. Sorry, Naoto-san, Dad needs the phone for something.”

 

“Give my regards to Dojima-san,” Naoto replied. “Call again anytime, alright?”

 

“Thanks, I will. Goodbye.”

 

The line went dead and Naoto turned her cell phone off, resting on her bed and looking out the nearby window. Nanako-chan had caught her just as she’d woken up, almost blowing her eardrums out with her ecstatic announcement, so Naoto was still in her pajamas. Different shades of blue and loose but comfortable, they’d been part of her order from Kanji-kun that she treasured the most. The thought of the days leading up to them becoming as close as they were, the uncertainty and fear she’d felt at the time, made her smile. They weren’t the most conventional couple, but she was happy to say that they were still together.

 

She looked over at her work table, considering a morning of tinkering with her vintage inventions, but Nanako-chan’s call left her feet itching to go somewhere, anywhere, rather than stay in her room. Naoto crossed her room and changed into her day clothes, closing her eyes at the soft feel of the material and close cut from her underwear to her double-breasted coat. One of his more recent creations, and there was nothing she could complain about in this case. There never was. Her wardrobe was fuller now than it had ever been before, and the sight that should have left her frowning from thoughts of how she was going to pack all of it in the event of her moving out lightened her heart instead.

 

She left her room and headed to her Grandpa’s study on the other side of the manor to tell him she’d be out when she heard several voices coming from the kitchen. One of them was Yakushiji-san, but the other two were too quiet for her to place. Frowning thoughtfully as her curiosity rose, Naoto walked toward the sound, still unable to make out much of what they were saying, and nodded to the men sitting at the dining table when she turned the corner and entered the expansive and immaculately clean kitchen.

 

Yakushiji-san was in his immaculate suit like always. No surprise there. Across from him was her Grandpa, dressed in soft grey and sitting straight and tall, looking ten years younger than she knew he was. Slacks and a sweater outlined the spry frame of a man who still ran three miles every day, shoulder-length silver hair was tied back and still damp, and familiar blue eyes sparkled in the morning light as he looked at her. The third person at the table was an unexpected surprise. Oshiro-san, an old friend of the family, a car aficionado and a top-flight mechanic, wiped at his mouth from the biscuits on the plate in front of him. The Shirogane automobile collection, contrary to anything people might expect, was extensive and rather exotic. For decades her family had assembled an impressive collection of vintage vehicles ranging from Italian sports cars to American muscle cars to German Porsches, and Grandpa was very particular about maintaining them for his occasional excursions in the countryside. When she’d been much younger, no matter how often she’d told her classmates stories of how fast he drove and in what sorts of vehicles, no one ever believed her after they met him. Even now, she couldn’t blame them; he didn’t look like he loved driving 5km under the point of breaking the sound barrier.

 

“Ah, Naoto,” the eldest of the trio greeted, rising with a smooth fluidity that defied his age. “Good morning. You’ve finished your conversation, I trust?”

 

“I have,” she confirmed with polite greetings and bows. “Nanako-chan had something important to pass on. Good morning, Oshiro-san.”

 

The man rose and bowed politely, a familiar wide smile on his face. His clothes were still clean and uncreased, telling her that he hadn’t started working on any cars yet. Or maybe he was just here for a consultation and to give an opinion. “Good morning, Shirogane-san. I hope everything’s going alright for you today.”

 

“Quite well, thank you.” She looked to her Grandpa just then. “If you don’t need me this morning, I’ll be going. I have some things to look after.”

 

“That won’t be a problem,” he told her with a nod. “Enjoy yourself and make sure you have your phone with you. Do you need a ride?”

 

“It’s a beautiful day,” she noted, looking at the clear sky through the nearby windows. “The walk will do me good.”

 

“Of course. Enjoy yourself then.”

 

Naoto gave her bows and headed for the door. The three continued their discussion like before, but it was even more hushed than before. She turned toward the kitchen as she put her shoes on, and when she focused her hearing past the noise of cars outside and the antique clock in the manor, she thought she heard Oshiro-san say “she’s going to love it.” Yakushiji-san said something she couldn’t hear properly, but the tone was one of approval.

 

The words piqued her interest, snagged her detective’s curiosity, but she restrained her instincts. If it was something Grandpa wanted to surprise her with, then snooping around would ruin the moment. And that was assuming that it was even for her. It wasn’t unlikely that Grandpa had found a woman to court and become involved with, and if that was the case, she would encourage him with all her heart when he told her. Naoto shook her head and exited the manor before the itch and desire to know got the better of her.

 

The bus to downtown Inaba was half full, and despite how much room there was, several people recognized her and came over to talk and catch up. Naoto’s replied were much smoother than the first few times it had happened, something she had the rest of the Inaba Crew to thank for, and she found herself becoming more and more proficient in the skill of small talk. She noted that several of the more interested conversers were rather attractive older women, and one in particular was a long-standing widow. Coincidence? Information gathering about her Grandpa? Naoto answered the questions and made polite conversation while making her own observations, and when she got off the bus at the shopping district, it was with several well-wishes and shows of gratitude. She shook her head as she walked past the Konishi Liquor Store, adjusting her officer’s cap and brushing her hair back. Whatever the reasons for the discussion, it wouldn’t do to be rude and downplay simple courtesy. And there was no guarantee that any of the women on the bus thought of her as more than an acquaintance. Best not to make any presuppositions.

 

“Welcome to Tatsumi Textile. How can I– Oh, hey,” Kanji-kun greeted her from the storefront, smiling as she took her shoes off. “How’re things?”

 

She’d since become accustomed to his informal and sometimes truncated way of speaking. Understanding him and picking up all the context he often had trouble getting across had been an interesting challenge, one she was still undergoing during the times they’d gone out and he’d gotten flustered. “I’m doing well. Nanako-chan called me this morning.” Kanji-kun smiled and shook his head, and Naoto returned the gesture. “She seems very excited about Senpai’s upcoming nuptials, distant as they are.”

 

“Yeah, she did the same with me,” Kanji-kun told her, a bit quieter than usual. “She was askin’ about dresses and how she can help with the ceremony ‘n stuff. I think she’s gonna drive Dojima-san up the wall between now and whenever the wedding is.”

 

“She means well,” Naoto noted, more reserved this time. Kanji-kun looked a bit pale, now that she thought about it, and his smile seemed forced. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Why’re you askin’?” he asked a bit harshly before making a face. “Sorry, had a bad night. And me an’ Ma’re havin’ a scrap right now.”

 

Naoto tilted her head, immediately curious. “That’s unusual. What’s the problem?”

 

He have a disgusted sigh and ran a hand back through his hair. “School. Career Day happened and Ma got a call from some asshole sayin’ where I would and wouldn’t be goin’ after I graduate. You can guess how she took it.”

 

Naoto sobered, well aware of how much Kanji-kun struggled with academics. “Not well, I presume.”

 

“Yeah, that’s a way to put it. School’s always been big to her, an’ me gettin’ reamed out like that didn’t help. Ain’t somethin’ I can change now, and I don’t need to go to some university to do what I do, but Ma ain’t listenin’.”

 

“There is some merit to that argument though,” Naoto hedged, not budging when he glared at her. “You can learn a lot from instructors and other students, and the courses are likely to have practical elements where you can make what you want. I know you’d do well at that.”

 

“Sure,” he replied, tone crackling with anger. “If you have the grades to get there. And I don’t. Never have. So to hell with it. I got better things to put my time into.”

 

“You can’t brush it off that easily,” Naoto insisted, stepping forward. “Even if you don’t want to take the classes, having some kind of accreditation on your name will help in the long run, especially with how people are becoming increasingly picky as the market narrows. Economics and the consumer’s choice are a very real concern.”

 

Kanji-kun’s next breath came from between clenched teeth, and she found herself on the receiving end of a glare that was bordering on hostile. “Yeah. I get that. But that means takin’ the courses and getting’ the grades for entrance exams or whatever, and I ain’t got what it takes to do that.”

 

Naoto was about to object, but his glare stopped her in place.

 

“I don’t. I ain’t Senpai, and I ain’t you. Classes get boring, reading just puts me to sleep, and tests always throw me off when I try to remember what we were doing. School ain’t easy for me like it is for you, and I can get by in the world doin’ what I’m doin’. I don’t need to spend the money or take the time to be told that I’m good at what I do.”

 

“School isn’t easy for me, if that’s what you think,” Naoto told him, ice edging her voice. “I don’t think it was easy for Souji-senpai and Yukiko-senpai either. But they didn’t let it stop them. Chie-senpai has the same difficulties you do, but she’s finding ways to achieve her goals.”

 

“An’ I got my goals right here,” Kanji-kun told her shortly. “I can make ‘em work right here, on my own. She has to pass tests to be a cop. I don’t need a school to tell me when I’m good enough to do what I do.”

 

“I see,” was all Naoto said. She knew she was glaring, and didn’t try to stop it. Much as she respected his choice to make a decision, this was wrong. It was giving up, and knowing that it would make their fight worse didn’t stop her from thinking it. “Then I hope things work out for you in the end.”

 

Kanji-kun didn’t lighten up like a small part of her feared he would. He wasn’t so detached from the conversation that he couldn’t read her, and she could hear his teeth grating against each other. “Don’t you dare give me that shit. Me goin’ to school or not’s got nothin’ to do with you, and I ain’t any worse off for it. Just because you could go to any school in the world doesn’t mean it’s gonna work for everyone.”

 

“I haven’t written off those possibilities,” she told him flatly. “I don’t know where my life will take me, but I haven’t stopped keeping my opportunities open, and I won’t pass up opportunities just because I think I can’t get them. I’ve been wrong before.” There were loaded tanker ships lighter than the silence that fell between them. Kanji-kun’s eyes burned hot enough to forge the swords he was glaring at her, and Naoto refused to let herself back down. “Was there anything else?” she asked, her tone making it clear that she wasn’t asking a question.

 

He snorted, stepping back with more than a trace of contempt in the caustic cocktail of emotions on his face. “Nah. You know where the door is.” He turned his back on her and, in four furious strides, was into the hallway far enough that he could slam the door behind him.

 

The sound passed her by, and Naoto seethed in the silence that followed. She shook her head and turned to leave, slipping into her shoes without tying the laces before she was out the door, closing it with definitely more force than it needed. She fumed as she walked toward the gas station, her heels hitting the pavement much harder than usual and her gait long and almost unsteady. It wasn’t until she was two blocks away that she had the thought that, after months of progress and exploration, she’d just had her first big fight with her boyfriend.

 

\---

 

 “What’s bothering you?” Yuuma asked, sitting next to her with a tumbler half full of whiskey on the rocks.

 

Izumi hadn’t moved from the couch the entire time. Her phone finally off, she hadn’t greeted her husband when he came in, hadn’t answered when he’d asked why she was home early, hadn’t even responded when he’d commented on dinner. She was still staring at the picture of Souji and his girlfriend, her thoughts circling like water around a drain and never getting anywhere.

 

She pushed the picture over for him to see, and, while he was looking at it, stole his drink and tilted it back. Three long swallows almost drained the glass, burning all the way down without so much as a cough. She set the tumbler back on the table, ice rattling against fine crystal, and sank her face into her free hand.

 

Yuuma said nothing. The picture ended up back on the table, and when she saw it again, she reached for what was left of the drink.

 

This time her husband stopped her, a gentle grip on her wrist. “Just a minute,” he told her, rising from the couch and taking the whiskey with him. Izumi was numb to the sounds that came from the kitchen, and she reached out robotically to take the drink he offered her a few minutes later. She smelled the _shochu_ and the _oolong_ tea, her favorite cocktail, and drank much less on the first draw. “Better?” he asked, his own drink refilled.

 

“I think so,” she replied, feel her head clear a little now that she had someone to talk to. “Thanks.”

 

“Of course.” He leaned back against the couch and crossed one leg over the other, savouring his first drink after work as he picked the picture up again and really looked at it. “I’m glad Souji’s tastes have changed,” he noted after a moment. “This is much more assuring than all those magazines with Risette on them.”

 

“I just got it today,” Izumi informed him, looking over with a sigh. “Ryo sent it and almost threatened Hitomi-chan to get it to me. It looks like he’s been trying to get me to see it for months.”

 

“He missed his calling as a photographer,” Yuuma told her with a smile. “I’m glad you got this though. It explains a few things.”

 

She frowned a little and turned to him, curiosity in her eyes. “Explains things? Did you know about this?”

 

“In a general way,” Yuuma told her. “When I talked to Souji a few days ago, I got the impression he was seeing someone and keeping it to himself. He wouldn’t tell me anything about her, but now we know.”

 

“I wish I’d known about her before now,” Izumi murmured, taking a drink and voicing what had been echoing in her head for hours. “Of course he’d be seeing someone. He shot us down every time we talked to him about meeting girls, and I don’t think he ever talked about it after he came back. I feel like a fool for not putting it together.”

 

Yuuma laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. “It bothers you that much? It’s not your fault if Souji doesn’t tell us these things.”

 

“He’s grown up this much, and I never noticed,” she continued, pointing to the picture. “All the calls to Inaba, the times he left to visit for just a few days, everything he hasn’t told us and we learn he’s with someone from a picture Ryo probably sent behind his back? How long have they known each other? How much have we missed? She’s this close to him and I don’t even know what kind of a girl she is.”

 

“Souji’s smart,” Yuuma assured her. “He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his future and the opportunities he has. And if this is the girl he’s with now, then it’s even less likely that he’s going to make any mistakes at university or in his career. So don’t worry about missing the small things; we know now, and we know where he’s going in the end. That’s all that matters.”

 

Izumi turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “You’re not curious about her?”

 

“Souji’s not the sort to get together with someone he can’t stand to talk to,” Yuuma began after a long drink. “And we both know that’s a short list to begin with. He’s driven and smart, and if he trusts her this much then it’s clear she’s at his level and probably from a good background. I’d like to know who she is so I can confirm a few things, but I have nothing against him being with a girl like this. He’ll tell us sooner or later.”

 

“I wish I knew her name,” Izumi mused. “Ryo left dozens of messages, but he never mentioned it.”

 

“A shame,” Yuuma conceded, ”but nothing insurmountable. If she’s from a good family, then she’ll know her place and do well to support him when that time comes. He’ll be much less stubborn by the time he graduates, and then we can meet her and give them the advice they need going forward.” He smiled confidently, squeezing her shoulder in encouragement again. “Don’t let it bother you. Even if we’re learning about this late, that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. This is a good opportunity for Souji and a chance for a proper daughter-in-law down the road. Things work out in the end and life goes on.”

 

Izumi wasn’t convinced. She agreed that Souji was everything her husband said, and that the odds of her son ending up with a girl wrong for him was unlikely. But the way they held each other in picture told her that the girl wouldn’t meekly do as she was told and “know her place” just because someone told her to do something. But that was becoming secondary as her thoughts collapsed in on her again. Everything she thought she knew about her child felt false now, like a painting left out in the rain. The colours and details lost their edge and ran into the gutter, leaving her with a misshapen, soggy mess that wouldn’t take colours again. Unbidden, the memory of _that_ night returned and she could see Souji crying in a dark corner, the sound of rain all around them. She closed her eyes and could hear that weak, choked sound that had been so alien that she couldn’t move to do anything about it. Yuuma was right that their son was smart, capable and strong. But something had happened since he’d gone to Inaba that even he couldn’t completely keep to himself, something that had broken him down to the level of a child all those months ago. And Izumi, with growing shame, realized that she still had no idea what could have had that effect on him, or why that same tormented soul could find so much peace with the girl in the picture. “How did it come to this?” she whispered to herself finally.

 

There was a moment of silence before Yuuma slid closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re still worried about work,” he assessed. “Things are changing and this came at a bad time. If you want, you could call Souji and find out what’s going on straight from the horse’s mouth. Maybe he’ll tell you who she is and we’ll be able to meet her.”

 

Izumi leaned against him, finally feeling some measure of support in this day that had thrown her mind, structured as a librarian’s card filing system, into so much turmoil. She still wasn’t convinced that her husband had the right of it this time, especially not when she thought of how even the neatest explanation could still be wrong, but it was better than chasing her tail. “That would be nice,” she replied.

 

“And you need some rest,” he told her. “You’re in no condition to make an informed decision about this right now. I’ll look after dinner, we’ll turn off the phones, and you can get an early night’s sleep. How does that sound?”

 

It had sounded wonderful, and while it took several more drinks and take-out from her favorite Chinese food restaurant, Izumi went to bed less troubled than when she’d gotten home. Into bed early, up later than usual, and she’d even broken her own long-standing tradition and didn’t get into work until 6:45 the next morning.

 

The assurances and extra rest hadn’t helped her come to a decision on what to do with Souji or Ryo though. She’d left a message with her brother saying “I got the picture. And I’m sorry,” and nothing more. Souji and his girlfriend were still a blank for her, and the more she thought about how to ask him for those answers, the less confident she felt. When she tried to back up and start off with how she would greet him and ask how school was, the lack of ideas stretched beneath her like she was walking a mile-high tightrope.

 

Almost a week passed before she made a decision: she’d visit an old friend from university. Junko had always had a knack for helping her find her centre and get the answers she needed, though Izumi joked that she was so good at solving the problems of others that she would fall short with her own issues. That always made the woman laugh. Izumi had gotten pregnant with Souji around the same time as Junko had conceived her daughter, a lovely little brown-haired girl that had the smartest mouth of any child Izumi had ever met, and Izumi felt bad that she hadn’t kept in touch over the years. A few phone calls and a Saturday set aside, and she was walking down a residential street that sported houses smaller than what she’d expected her friend to live in, but she shrugged; there was nothing wrong with living modestly.

 

“Here we are,” she said to herself, opening the gate to a small corner house lot and nodding when she saw the polished nameplate.

 

_Takenaka._

 

She knocked on the door and let herself in when Junko called “Come in!” from inside. Izumi entered quietly, closed the door behind her and slipped out of her shoes and put on the house slippers on the small rack on the landing. She looked up and stepped onto the hardwood floor, and almost slipped when she abruptly stopped in place.

 

The house was… Izumi had to look for the right words to describe it, but the feeling of how off it was held her fast. Souji had never liked the places they’d lived in while he was growing up, always calling them ‘grey’ or ‘boring’ when he was younger, and ‘austere’ and ‘like a mortuary’ as his vocabulary grew. Izumi wouldn’t disagree that the apartment she and Yuuma shared was a bit lacking in decorations and colour, but what she saw felt jarring, like double vision when the images were nothing like each other.

 

The kitchen, just to the right of the entrance, was bare. The stove and counters were clean and mostly free of dust, but the spice rack was empty and the only thing that looked like it saw any regular use was the microwave. Izumi would never have placed money on her own cooking skills, but she had seen how well Souji stocked and maintained the kitchen at every house and apartment they’d lived in since he learned how to cook, and Junko’s felt empty. Worse, there was a sense of indifference about the place that she hoped was just her imagination.

 

Izumi turned to the living area, where a familiar figure was lounging on the couch in the low lighting, and again she had to focus and address what she was seeing rather than what her memories told her should be there. Curtains on each side of the TV looked like they had been pulled from a shopping catalogue, which was nothing unusual, but some of the curtain rings had come loose, leaving the fabric to hang unevenly and only let a few cracks of sunlight through. Nearby wall units and bookshelves were crammed with books and manuals, and paper was stuffed into every gap and corner it would fit into. Izumi was no stranger to paper piles and unorthodox organization habits, but the bent and torn edges, the rips in some and the crushed balls of others as they rested near a waste basket told her a different story than when she looked around her own office. Frustration? Haste? Certainly not the orderly structure she remembered.

 

She stepped closer to a couch that had sagged in a human-shaped indent in the corner, noticing some framed pictures off in the corner that were dull from the layer of dust on them while others were cleaner but had chipped edges or small cracks in the glass that didn’t come from being dropped.

 

“It’s been a long time,” Junko told her from the couch, rising to greet her old friend in a voice raspier and harsher than the smooth contralto of her youth.

 

Izumi bowed familiarly, and bit her tongue to keep her surprise under control. She wasn’t one for wearing a three-piece suit for friends, but Junko’s worn jeans and faded, untucked t-shirt was nothing like what she remembered. When she came up to embrace the woman, she had to bite down harder: her friend looked like she’d aged fifty years in less than twenty. Dark brown hair that had been long and lustrous was now short and streaked with ragged strands of white, and those large, laughing eyes were set back in her skull, dark and narrow. Her cheeks looked sallow and even her skin seemed pale in the low lighting. Izumi hoped against the sinking feeling in her heart that it was all in her imagination. “It really has,” she began, carefully choosing her words. “How have you been?”

 

Junko smiled. It looked closer to a grimace on a face that was worn with lines that looked like scowl marks. “I’m managing. Work’s steady, the house is mine and no one else is eating the food, so things are as good as they can be.”

 

“Are you on sabbatical?” Izumi asked, circling the living room table and sitting on the couch opposite her friend. The springs were stiff and unbroken, and the smell of gin got stronger the lower she went. “Projects on the side?”

 

Junko laughed in what sounded like a hint of mirth, but it came out grating and hard like a dry gravel mixer. “No. Nothing like that. I gave it up.”

 

Izumi blinked, silent. Twenty minutes ago, she would have laughed at such a ludicrous idea. Now she felt that to laugh would have been to tread on some very deep scars. “Gave it up?” she asked, still careful with her tone. “That doesn’t sound like you. You had more connections and leads than me and Yuuma combined not that long ago.”

 

“Twenty years isn’t that long ago?” the woman asked, the question softer only because it came after a long drink from something Izumi could smell from across the table. “I guess it can fly by if you’re climbing the ladder and making progress. For some of us, it’s been a long ride to nowhere.”

 

“It can’t be that bad,” Izumi protested with a light smile. “Whatever’s happening, it’s temporary.”

 

Junko eyed her for a moment, then gave a trace of a shadow of a genuine smile. “It’s something. Aside from work, how have you been?”

 

“I’m…” Izumi took a deep breath and threaded her fingers together, tightening them and focusing her thoughts. “It’s been a strange week. Souji’s off at university and I learn now, probably years after it started, that he’s going out with a girl I’ve never met.”

 

Junko chuckled, a dark grin spreading on her face. “Men and their secrets. Don’t expect anything more from him, in that case.”

 

Izumi’s eyes narrowed at the clear insinuation. “Souji’s not like that.”

 

“He’s a man,” Junko insisted. “How did you find out? Wait, wait, I know: she called to tell you he knocked her up and she wants to make sure he takes responsibility, right?”

 

“Of course not!” Izumi hissed. “There are plenty of reasons why he didn’t tell us, and it has nothing to do with that! And she wasn’t the one who told me; I haven’t even met her yet.”

 

Junko’s smile died off and became curious. “Sounds like a story. Alright, lay it on me. What’s going on?”

 

Izumi collected her thoughts and stared with a touch of distrust at her friend, but this was why she’d come here, and even if her old friend wasn’t how she remembered, the tenacity and sharp mind were still there. So she began the story of her getting the picture and started talking about all the questions she had, then stopped when she realized how many there were. Junko listened, mostly attentive when she wasn’t refilling her drink, and only asked a few questions. By the end, her hand was holding up her forehead as the familiar doubts rode around her like they were on a merry-go-round.

 

“What’s stopping you from calling him?” Junko asked after the story was finished. “Sure, he might hate you and tell you off, but you’re not getting anywhere now, are you?”

 

“It’s not just him,” Izumi replied. “It’s everyone else. My brother and his family too, how do I start with this?”

 

There was a _clink_ of the bottle on the glass, and Junko swore to herself as the alcohol ran out. “Same way,” she advised. “Give it a go and see if they hate you for it. Worst that can happen is that they hate you and never talk to you again. Then it’s case closed and you can keep going up the ladder.” Her tone wasn’t friendly enough to be considered “cordial advice.”

 

It was enough to bring Izumi’s head up so she could glare at the woman. While telling her story, she hadn’t mentioned her difficulties at work, and the words hit a still-bloody wound. “That’s in bad taste.”

 

She got a dry laugh in return. “Sorry, forgot that the world looks different from up there. But do toss me a line and a drink when you reach the top, won’t you?”

 

Izumi’s sense of courtesy began to slip and that old fire, the side of her that had weathered every boss, associate and idiot telling her to get a husband and stop taking jobs away from more qualified men, flared up. “I didn’t know you were this stuck on self-pity these days,” she said with narrow eyes. “My apologies if I’m interrupting something.”

 

Junko paused, her drink caught between the table and her lips, before she smiled humorlessly and gave her a toast. “Nice to see you haven’t changed. Still as bossy as always. I’m fine, by the way.”

 

“You’re anything but fine,” Izumi almost snapped, her patience with the woman who had been as close as a sister she’d always wanted down to a few frayed threads. “It looks like things haven’t been easy for you, and I understand that. But when did it happen? Why has it come to this? Tell me what happened.”

 

Junko shrugged, her “do your worst” smile darkening the dim room a touch more. “Take your pick. Tried to play the game and climb the ladder, tried to find the right man and make it work, tried to have a kid and juggle it all at once. What’s that saying about chasing more than one rabbit?”

 

“Megumi-chan must have graduated high school by now,” Izumi noted. “ And you’ve never let setbacks stop you. What’s stopping you now?”

 

The moment the girl’s name was said, a blind chef’s smorgasbord of emotions raced across Junko’s face. Anger, regret, pain, contempt, and sadness and a trace of what might have been love mixed in a cocktail that felt like poison. Rather than feel assured that she’d gotten past her friend’s armour of thorns, Izumi felt like the worst hadn’t even started.

 

“Megumi’s fine,” Junko snapped a moment later, taking a long drink. “She’s off and gone, doing whatever she wants. As for me, I’m done for. Wasn’t my idea, but when the big shots find out you’ve got a kid and no man to explain where she came from, they get pretty full of themselves. It’s not their business, never was, but they can make your life hell all the same.”

 

“No father?” Izumi inquired, unable to help herself. “I thought you were engaged. I’m sure I remember you saying that.”

 

“Didn’t work out that way,” Junko told her, an almost sing-songy tone clashing with the familiarity and bitterness in her voice. “Can’t marry a man who’s already got a wife and kid, can I?”

 

Izumi bit her tongue to keep back her surprise, unsure if she wanted to question her friend or offer sympathy.

 

“And I knew it,” she continued, her resignation laced with patience now, like she’d said the words so many times that their barbs had lost their edge. “I knew it when I was pregnant, and I felt like I could change his mind.” Junko drained her glass and slammed it onto the table. “Might have if she’d been a boy.”

 

Izumi couldn’t bite her tongue hard enough to keep her reaction down. “It’s not Megumi-chan’s fault her father wanted a son. And it’s not your fault either.”

 

That earned her a bloodshot glare. “Taking her side now?”

 

“Of course not,” Izumi snorted. “I didn’t know there was a problem until you brought it up. How could I take any sides?”

 

“She does, you know,” Junko muttered darkly, sitting back and staring at the table. “Ever since she was little, she always took sides. When she does well, she only tells me because she knows he won’t talk to her, like she thinks I’ll pass on the good news and bring him to see her. If he were around, she wouldn’t need me. She’d be on his side, and then where would I be? Hm?”

 

_No worse than where you are right now._ “That’s ridiculous. Why do you think Megumi-chan’s not here?”

 

“Because she’s the same as him!” Junko snapped, flinging her arm out fast enough to lose her grip on her glass and send it crashing into the kitchen. “She looks the same, she sounds the same, she’s gotten everything from him! Where am I in the equation? I raised her, taught her everything I could and she still looks at me like I’m trash! It’s not my fault the banks are the only ones taking new hires! I should be even higher than you, but no! I couldn’t take it then. I can’t take it now, and honestly? I’m glad she’s where she is. A Fujisawa university somewhere because she lucked out and hooked up with the right kid, and she’ll forget I’m even here. Look on the bright side: your kid might hate you, but at least he knows you exist. Megumi’s gone off and could be dead in a car crash and they’d only tell me because _he_ wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

 

Izumi looked at the pictures on a nearby end table and picked one up to look at a girl whose eyes were hard and dim. The smile she wore was crooked like she was trying too hard to make it convincing, and none of the awards around her, all for academic excellence and achievement, seemed to spark any pride in her. It reminded her, she thought in a moment of horror, of Souji in the same picture that she had at her office. The eyes and the expression were the same, and she put the picture down in an instant before she let herself think of how long it had been since she had seen her son smile. “She looks like you,” Izumi noted with a tone of iron, “not her father. The same eyes, the same hair, even your faces are the same. What do you think she got from her father?”

 

“You’re just saying that,” Junko hissed, spite growing in her eyes. “You had to poke around in my business, didn’t you?”

 

“Was her father around when she was growing up?” Izumi continued. “Because if not, then Megumi-chan got what she knows from you, and there’s no way you would have let her go without helping her. You said that she’s in university herself now. Even if she is with her boyfriend, isn’t she where she is because you were there to help her? She wouldn’t forget that.”

 

Junko’s knuckles turned white on the arm of the couch. “What do you know? Because things worked out for you, now you’re making fun of me? I’ve tried! I’ve done everything I can and I’m still here! Where are my opportunities? When do I get a break?!”

 

Izumi held her words back, knowing they would only twist the knife deeper. Instead she rose to her feet and stepped around the table, stopping to take a last look at her oldest friend “I’m sorry I’ve bothered you. I didn’t mean to.”

 

“Keep your pity,” Junko shot back, turning her head and facing the other direction. “I’m sick of hearing it.”

 

Izumi reached into a breast pocket and pulled out her business card case, fingering through them until she found the one she wanted. “Kuzuki-san might be looking for someone of your skills,” she continued, placing the card on the table. “It’s better than banking. Maybe it will suit you, maybe it won’t, but you deserve better than this.”

 

Junko’s voice was brittle from how much acid it was laced with.“Handing out charities? Go to hell. It’s another dead end, like all the others.”

 

“Maybe. And if that’s all it takes to stop you, then save yourself the trouble. Goodbye.” Izumi bowed and strode from the living room, slipped her shoes back on and was out the door before the growling and cursing behind her escalated. She could still hear it when she got to the sidewalk.

 

When she got home, she went to the bathroom and ran the cold water, washing her face until the skin felt raw, the afternoon’s words echoing in her head. She shut the water off and dried off with a towel, staring at the mirror.

 

She’d never seen someone so disconnected from her own child. Junko had been an inspiration to her back in university, the kind of opponent who’d always forced her to be the best if only to keep a little bit ahead. But the bitterness and the pain she felt coming off the woman had turned her into a different person entirely. And for her to be so angry at Megumi-chan…

 

Izumi sighed, tossing the towel to the sink in frustration. She’d been hoping for some answers, but now all she has was more questions. What was she supposed to do about Souji? What about Ryo and the bond she’d let decay for years? There was even her little niece, and Izumi couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen Nanako-chan out of her diapers. How old was she now? Nine? Ten?

 

Where was she supposed to start? Could she do anything while she was still working? On that note, where was her career going?

 

So many questions, so much to do. She set her hands on the sink and stared down, still drawing a blank. Then she looked up at the mirror and thought of that picture. The little girl at the top of the class when it meant nothing to her. Those glassy eyes. For a second, the image of Souji looking at her like that flashed across her mind, and she pushed back from the sink and clenched her eyes shut, trying to crush the thought. It lingered, but eventually left like the stare of a disappointed superior.

 

Izumi shook her head and ran her hands over her face. She knew that she’d drifted away from Souji. Maybe he was like Megumi-chan, maybe he wasn’t, but seeing it in front of her, so nakedly hostile and real, told her that she couldn’t let it stay the way it was. She felt the familiar frustration come back as she hesitated on the idea of making the call and went back to her room, taking her coat off and tossing it to the bed. The slight impact was enough to slide her phone out, the _on_ light catching her eye. She opened it and stared, thinking of how much less than ten days had changed when years hadn’t even come close. Her fingers froze when she opened her contact list like they always did, and she asked herself, like she had since she saw the picture, what she was going to do if she called Souji. If he would even talk to her.

 

Her own voice murmured between her ears, still going around in circles except for something that had crossed her lips only a few hours ago:

 

_If that’s all it takes to stop you…_

 

\---

 

Muffled sound and warm water surrounded her, brushing back and forth while she held her breath and stared at the insides of her eyelids. The darkness was familiar and warm like she had returned to the womb, cut off from the world around her while her hair floated around her in strands of seaweed.

 

She’d never told anyone, but it felt like death.

 

When she’d faced down Izanami with Souji and everyone else, she had been the last one to die. And she’d done it without hesitation, her only fear that she wouldn’t make it to help him in time. She felt the blow connect with her chest, felt her life fade as she sank to the ground, and was glad that she’d protected Souji with that last step. Where she went after that, she’d never know, but it was as quiet and peaceful and strange as this.

 

Yukiko let go of the line connecting her to the twenty-pound weight on the bottom of the pool and let herself rise to the surface. This too was how death felt. After she’d felt at peace for… she didn’t know how long, she heard him call her. Her and the others. And when he did, she was drawn to him until she broke the line between death and life and opened her eyes. No running for a light at the end of the tunnel, no angels or demons waiting for her, just the warm, quiet dark that she moved through to get to him.

 

And when she came back, she’d felt Souji’s arms tight around her, his tears on her face, his pleas in her ears. She’d never seen someone, especially not her love, so helpless and broken, and she’d embraced him when she came back until he was certain she was alive. It took a while; he was long out of tears by the time he let her go.

 

She opened her eyes and breathed lightly enough to keep herself floating on the surface, staring at the ceiling of the pool and letting her mind drift back to the days before that last fight, when warm liquid on her hands had come to mean something very different. Before she ended up in that castle, she’d never hurt another creature or even seen a dead animal or person before. Violence was something that had never played a role in her life, so the sight and feel and smell of so much blood was as bizarre as waking up and literally seeing herself staring back at her.

 

After fighting her Shadow, however, she volunteered to be the group medic and healer. Yosuke-kun had been able to do it, but didn’t have the gentle touch, according to everyone who had the chance to compare, that she did. And with that position came the bloody slashes, the terrified screams, and the wet feeling on her hands that had left her scrubbing them raw for the first few weeks. She had wanted to help everyone as best she could, and none of them were so skilled at fighting before they’d manifested their Personas that they could get away with only a few cuts and scrapes, so that meant seeing injuries that had relieved her of her lunch until she learned to clench her teeth and ignore the cries of pain. It meant that while Souji and Yosuke-kun were their leaders and had been fighting the longest, she was the one who know where everyone’s scars were. Kanji-kun and Souji-kun had the worst of it, with her fiancé bearing burn marks she still felt guilty about, and her childhood friend suffering from jagged bite marks on his shoulder and a torn bicep that, no matter how hard she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to heal properly. Naoto-kun, Chie, Yosuke-kun, Teddie, they’d all suffered and bled under her hands, and the pain she felt, their pain, had kept her up at night, sometimes for days on end. The visits she’d made to their houses sometimes, to make sure they were healing alright, were heartbreaking. The lies they had to tell their families, the secrets, the hope in the eyes of her friends when they asked how the wounds were looking, and the need for her to always have a smile on her face twisted her heart like a wet rag.

 

“Not anymore,” she murmured to herself, still staring at nothing. Ending the murders and putting an end to the fights, the months between Christmas and April, had helped for her to return to normal. The parties, the visits, the chances for them to be teenagers again had given them the normalcy they’d needed. And now they were well on their way to living normal lives, good days and mistakes and all.

 

Smiling to herself, she took a fast breath and dove down to catch the line and weight she’d borrowed, dragging it to the end of the pool and kicking hard to pull it up with her. Once she had a hand on the deck, she pulled herself up and turned to sit on the wet mortar and tile, then pulled the weight out of the water.

 

“You must be half fish,” a calm, familiar voice noted from nearby.

 

Yukiko turned to see Mei-san in a modest two-piece sitting on a lounge chair and holding up a towel as an offer. “Not quite,” she replied with a smile. “I haven’t grown any gills yet.” Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the edge of one of her own scars peeking past the edge of her swimsuit and quickly adjusted the strap to cover it up before standing up and walking over to her new friend, taking the towel and wrapping it around her back, shoulders and chest.

 

Mei-san was silent for a moment before shifting around in her seat. “I don’t blame you. They don’t look like your type.”

 

When Yukiko looked at her curiously, she nodded further down the deck. Yukiko looked over to see a number of guys lounging around, waving to her and waving her over. She gave a quiet sigh of relief; it seemed that her friend had misinterpreted why she’d covered herself up. Like Mei-san said, the guys in question weren’t her type. Black hair or brown hair, but none silver, and their sizes and builds varied as much as their hair colour didn’t. Just then Yukiko realized how she was sitting and how much leg she was putting in display. After a moment’s thought, she pulled her towel tighter around her. She didn’t like being stared at by strangers, but there weren’t any incriminating scars on her legs. “No, they aren’t,” she replied after she turned her back to them and her attention to the woman beside her. “Besides, I’m not available anymore.”

 

“That wouldn’t stop them,” Mei-san chuckled. “They were trying to be charming, I think, while you were off in your own little world. A few actually called you a mermaid. But if that’s how it is, then good on you. On that note, how do you like Kyoto? Everything you were hoping?”

 

Normal conversation. Something else she’d grown to appreciate after the investigation. “It’s a little too early to tell. Everything’s much bigger than I expected.”

 

“Like the pool,” Mei-san noted with a smile. “You were floating there for a while.”

 

Yukiko shrugged, never having timed how long she could hold her breath for. “I hadn’t noticed. I was thinking of some things, actually.”

 

Mei-san gestured for her to continue, her hand upturned before her fingers spread, stopped, and then clenched into a fist for a second. It was a tendency Yukiko had noticed in their run-ins in the past, like the woman was used to holding something and she was trying to break the habit every time she noticed herself doing it. “Sounds like a story. Do tell.”

 

It wasn’t much of a story, though she knew better than to think about telling anyone about the time in the TV. “Souji has been distant the last few days,” she told the woman, leaning a bit closer so she wouldn’t have to raise her voice. “He seems distracted when he calls, and when I asked if there was something wrong, he said he had some difficulties come up regarding his classes that he had to work out.”

 

“It happens,” Mei-san noted with a mild grimace. “The registrars are hardly perfect.”

 

“That’s true, but I think something else is bothering him. Last time he was this evasive was when he was having problems with his family.” Yukiko told Mei-san about the trip she took to Kofu and how Souji had reacted, and how similar this situation felt. “I don’t know if he’s having the same problem as before, but it feels like he’s keeping something to himself.”

 

Mei-san pursed her lips thoughtfully, tapping the arm of her chair. “Are you going to visit him?”

 

“I want to,” Yukiko admitted, looking down when the urge to pack up and leave rose in her chest. “Souji… there are a few of us who met him when he moved to Inaba. Things happened around him and we all got swept off in the same direction, but he always acts like a senpai to the others, and even to me sometimes. And because he’s been the leader right from the start, he got used to helping everyone with their problems, usually without ever telling us about his own. He keeps things to himself and never asks for help unless he’s sure he needs it.”

 

“Lots of guys are like that,” Mei-san noted. “Always doing things themselves because asking for help makes them less of a man or something. Souji-san sounds different from that though, and I don’t think he’d be doing it out of stubborn pride.”

 

“He isn’t,” Yukiko assured her with a shake of the head. “Maybe he’s still not used to asking for help, or maybe it’s not something we can help with, but it’s hard to feel like we can help him when he needs it when we don’t know what’s going on.”

 

Mei-san shifted in her chair again, her eyes flicking to a couple passing them by before returning to the raven-haired young woman. “What do you think?”

 

“I think I want to visit him and find out what the problem is. It’s something that’s bothering him, and I feel like he needs to remember that he doesn’t have to do everything alone.” Yukiko sighed then. “But I won’t. I want to, but classes are starting and I don’t want to get this year off to a bad start.”

 

Mei-san nodded and smiled a little. “That’s smart. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

 

Yukiko went quiet for a while, looking for the words and thinking about how easy it was to talk about these things. Probably because the woman reminded her so much of Souji. “Last time I got involved, the problem was something I couldn’t help him with. Taking part in the solution would have made the problems worse, if it even had a chance of helping at all now that I think about it, so I had to stay out of it. If the problems are the same as before, then even if I go to Fujisawa, I probably won’t be able to do anything. And he’d probably worry about me missing classes and spending money, which is the last thing he needs.”

 

The woman’s smile widened, and there was a clear note of admiration in her voice. “There aren’t many people who would see it that way. You’re thinking this through a lot better than most.”

 

As gratifying as that was, and as calm as Yukiko sounded, there was a familiar undercurrent of frustration running through her. She was assuming that she was right about the situation, and was going to call Souji tonight to find out what she could, but knowing that something was bothering him and that she couldn’t do anything about it made her feel helpless and a little useless, things she’d sworn she wouldn’t be after she walked away from that castle. “I wish there was more I could do.”

 

“We all do. There’s a quote I heard once that might help you in this case. ‘Being in a relationship is like dancing a tango and two solos at the same time.’ It’s not easy and you’ll step on each other’s toes for a while, but sometimes we have to grin and bear it.”

 

Yukiko was quiet for a moment, taking in the analogy and picking the words for the obvious question it raised. “This might be a bit personal, Mei-san, but are you speaking from experience? Do you, well, have someone?”

 

“That is rather personal, actually.”

 

Yukiko pulled back in a snap, contrition clear on her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

 

She shook her head with a smile. “Don’t worry, you didn’t. It’s just not something I talk about much. Maybe we’ll crack the topic open over drinks after exams are over, how does that sound?”

 

Yukiko nodded, surprised by the offer and happy to have gotten it. “I’d like that. Are you planning that far ahead already?”

 

Mei-san shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve done this, and I always need a few drinks to take the edge off. Are you alright to join us? You don’t have to if you’d rather not.”

 

That had been a topic that only made Souji and the others quiet when she brought it up, and they’d talked her out of drinking even after she graduated and they never said why. Yukiko decided to give it a try and, as Souji or Naoto-kun might put it, broaden her horizons. “We don’t have many bars back home, and I’m usually too busy to try drinking. I’d like to do it around friends if I could, so I’ll take you up on your offer.”

 

“Looking forward to it. We can make a night of it, you and Chie-san and Natsuki and…” Mei-san frowned then, a look of faint resignation and long suffering on her face even while her lips turned up at the edges. “Actually, that reminds me, don’t be afraid to close the door on Natsuki if she starts bothering you. She means well, but she can be a little overbearing sometimes. And airheaded. And you never know where the conversation with her is going to go or when she’ll stick her nose into something.”

 

At that moment, Natsuki was sticking her head around the corner of Chie’s room door, open to allow for a breeze since the martial artist was punching and kicking through some katas. Natsuki leaned against the door frame and, despite knowing nothing about martial arts, watched as the young woman went from one kick to the next, every movement slow and precise. Sweat had soaked through a few places on her shirt and the look of concentration, involving narrow eyes and lips back enough to show gritted teeth, made Natsuki swear to not get on the girl’s bad side. Still, as much work as it looked, Natsuki couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face: whether Chie had started before she came to Kyoto or since, the exercise did wonders to her figure. Trim, tight, and definitely muscled, she fit a shirt and shorts pretty good. That made Natsuki think for a moment and recall that she’d only really seen Chie in shirts, tank tops and shorts, and all of those were pretty normal. Feeling her curiosity rise, Natsuki stuck her head into the room a bit more to see what she could of her new friend’s closet.

 

“Hey Yukiko, what’s u– whoa! Amemiya, when did you get here?”

 

Natsuki chuckled and waved Chie’s reaction, wide eyes and stepping back in surprise, off like it was nothing. “A minute or two ago. Thought I’d drop in, see how you’re doing. Lots of new students have a tough time getting used to living on their own in the first few weeks. How’re you doing?”

 

Chie steadied herself, coming out of her stance and standing normally. “It’s… yeah, it’s different from back home, but it’s not that bad. I mean, the rooms are nice,” she mentioned as she gestured around to the green and yellow rug, the dark barbells, and the plethora of posters around her. “ But it’s not like I’ve never been to the city before. Yosuke and Souji always talked about Tokyo and the things they had there, and we went to Tatsumi Port Island once a year or two ago.”

 

Natsuki darted closer as her eyes lit up. “No way, really!? Did you hit up the boutiques and the shops? What about the specialty stores for the Kirijo Group? They have the best designers in the market these days!”

 

Chie looked surprised and scratched her cheek for a moment. “Uh, I’m not really sure. I never got into that stuff, and Rise and Yukiko would be able to tell you more about it.”

 

“You didn’t?!” Natsuki demanded, coming forward a step. “You had the chance of a lifetime and you didn’t check out even one clothing store?! What about a designer’s workshop? Or a dye-maker’s?”

 

“Well, Yukiko might know,” Chie mentioned, gesturing toward her friend’s room out of reflex, remembering that she’d gone swimming. “Like I said, fashion’s never been my thing so I wouldn’t know where to start.”

 

Natsuki sighed at the delayed opportunity. “I’ll talk to Yukiko-san then. But are you serious? Fashion doesn’t do anything for you? Not even for everyday stuff? Everyone has a few simple things they like more than others.”

 

“Shirts and sweaters, I guess,” Chie shrugged. “But it’s never been a big deal to me what I wear. When I was a kid it’d get… well, if it’s not something that I can run in, then it feels like I’ll trip. Or that I might rip it if I turn too fast.”

 

Natsuki nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. Running in heels would probably kill you, and slacks would get too hot, right?”

 

“Way too hot.”

 

“Well, what about when you’re not running or practicing? Don’t you wear something different when you’re going to class or hanging out with Yukiko-san and your friends?”

 

Chie held her hands out and ran them down the front of her body, indicating what she had on just then. “I usually wear the same things. Shorts, shirts, skirts, the usual. None of us really dressed up that much when we were hanging out. I mean, no more than what we usually wore.”

 

Natsuki tapped her chin, resisting the urge to massage her temple. “Well, what about when you’re on dates?”

 

The young woman’s cheeks immediately started turning red. “I… well, sure,” she replied, scratching her head and looking away. “I dress up nice for those. But it’s not like I have a lot of special clothes for dates or anything.”

 

“Why not? You want to make a good impression, right?”

 

Chie shifted her weight a bit from one foot to the other. “Well, yeah, I guess, but there hasn’t been a lot of time for that. And Kou’s never minded before,” she mumbled.

 

Natsuki smiled then, a clear look of “come on” on her face. “He might not say it, but hasn’t it crossed your mind what he likes? Maybe you won’t be able to run in nice clothes, but they can give you a lot more freedom than if you just wear the same things all the time.”

 

Chie mumbled something to herself, still looking down.

 

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

 

The martial artist sighed and looked up, a touch of shame in her normally indomitable eyes. “I’m not you,” she whispered, gesturing to the woman dressed in white capris and a flashy multi-coloured shirt that set off her hair streaks. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

 

Natsuki sighed, walking over and lightly hugging her new friend. “Oh, sweetie, don’t let that get to you. No one starts off knowing this stuff perfectly. You weren’t born… well, yes, you probably were born kicking and punching, but it took practice to get this far, right? Dressing up and dressing down are the same. Just takes some practice. And it’s a lot of fun, too.”

 

“I know that,” Chie told her, smiling a little as they sat on her bed, “but I’m not you, and I wouldn’t look good in what you’re wearing. I’d probably rip the buttons off or something if I tried to put clothes like that on, and no one I know dresses like you do.”

 

Natsuki flashed her a winning smile, eyes sparkling. “You’re a real charmer, aren’t you? But don’t let that bother you. You’ve probably never seen someone dress like me because no one has the taste to.” Natsuki winked devilishly, and drew a laugh from Chie as the air eased up. “We’ll fix this though. You’ve got good taste in clothes for school and running and fighting, but I promise you’ll see the difference when you try something new. Something that brings out the best of what you have so that the next time he comes to Kyoto, his jaw will hit the ground. No girl ever went home angry when her man loved what she wore.”

 

Chie shifted back and forth for a moment. “I don’t think I need to keep impressing him though, do I? He… I mean, we’re doing alright as it is. He’s not the kind of guy who would ditch me just because I’m not wearing the newest fashions or something.”

 

Natsuki let out a quiet “hmmm” as she searched for the best metaphor. “It’s not like that. And no, he doesn’t seem like he’d do that,” she began. “Some girls might have to keep winning their guys back, but those guys are jerks and should be tossed to the side of the road. Your guy seems pretty loyal and happy with who he has. But let’s compare it to running. When you started out, did you only go the same distance every time?”

 

“No,” Chie replied, a bit more comfortable now that they were on familiar ground. “No one does if they want to get good at it. You have to push yourself and go further every time.”

 

“Exactly,” Natsuki smiled. “This is the same thing. You and him might have things nice and comfortable now, but you’re going to want to see more of him, and he’ll want to see more of you. And changing clothes and how you wear them is a way to see those different sides that you might not see all the time.”

 

Chie looked at her quickly, blinking a few times with an odd expression on her face.

 

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

 

The surprise and the assessing look stayed in place for a moment before it faded away. “No… nothing wrong. I wasn’t expecting you to word it like that.”

 

“It’s a gift,” Natsuki admitted as she preened a bit. “Anyway, the more you show him, the more interested he becomes, and then things can change and go places that they wouldn’t if you’d left things how they were.”

 

Chie nodded, seeming a bit more comfortable now. “I get what you’re saying, but can all of this really happen just because of clothes? Isn’t what you’re talking about the sort of thing that should come naturally when we’re going out?”

 

“Clothes are part of it,” Natsuki noted. “A big part, but just a part of it. How you wear them is just as important, because putting them on isn’t enough to get somewhere.” She looked a bit closer and saw that there would need to be some clear examples for the point to make it home. “We’ll get there though. Reserve a weekend and we’ll go shopping and I’ll show you. Yukiko-san can come with us too. I know some shops that she’ll love.”

 

Chie scratched the side of her head again, a few doubts starting to show in her eyes. “Are you… I mean, this is going to be expensive, isn’t it?”

 

“One thing at a time,” Natsuki told her as she brushed the concern off. “We’ll work out the details when we get closer. But keep a day open on your calendar and I’ll show you what I mean, alright?”

 

She didn’t look completely convinced, but she was at least willing to give it a try. “Alright. Thanks, Amemiya-san.”

 

“Natsuki,” the older woman insisted. “We’re going to be around each other for a while, so there’s no need to be so formal, right?”

 

“I guess so. Natsuki-san,” Chie said after a moment, testing the name for the first time.

 

“That’ll do. I’ll let you get back to your workouts, and if you have any questions about this, come talk to me, alright?”

 

“I’ll remember that. Thanks again.”

 

“No worries. Don’t work too hard.”

 

Natsuki left the girl in her room, an extra bounce to her step and a smile she couldn’t keep down spreading on her face. Doing a good deed for the new girls perked her up, but when she started thinking of all the places she could take them and what they could try on, she giggled and tapped her fingers together.

 

Mei was going to love it. Yes, this was going to be _fun_.

 

\---

 

“I know Yukiko talked to him the other night,” Chie told him as he turned, trying to lessen the sound of mall radio music and screaming fans, “but I don’t know how that went. She said he’s working on something and he’ll tell her when he’s got everything under control. Has he said anything to you?”

 

“Not really,” Yosuke told her, hunching down and plugging his ear after a particularly loud “ _It’s Risette!!_ ” from just down the way. “You know how he is. It’s hard to tell if he’s hitting a wall or just busy. And I got the same answer Yukiko-san did when I asked.”

 

“I only caught some of that,” she told him, speaking louder. “What did you say? And where are you, anyway?”

 

“Rise’s doing a thing and signing autographs at the mall,” he told her after he repeated himself. “She stopped by and I didn’t have anything better to do, so I’m helping out.”

 

“That explains the noise,” she told him before sighing, and Yosuke could easily imagine the frown she was wearing. It was the one she always wore when she was thinking too hard. “This sucks,” she continued. “Yukiko said that Souji’s going through something that he wants to handle on his own, but you can see that it’s bugging her.”

 

“There isn’t much we can do,” he told her, smiling at the thought of trying to push their leader in one direction or the other. “I mean, I told him about a few places that were hiring and put a good word for him at Junes if he needs money, but that’s where things are right now.”

 

Chie growled a little. “He’s _still_ doing everything on his own. You’d think he’d get tired of it and let us do some of the heavy lifting.”

 

Yosuke started to say something when another enthusiastic shriek turned him toward the gathering gaggle of groupies and fans with a sour look. “Now now,” he told her after taking a few more steps and turning a corner where he could still see Rise, “no need to go there. This is just how he does things and he knows what he can and can’t do better than any of us. And you know he’d ask for help if there was something we could do.”

 

Chie let out a long breath, the sort that made her sound like a released balloon as it flew around the room. “I know, you’re right. It’s just… you’re there with him. Make sure you help him if he needs it, okay? For Yukiko and me.”

 

“Not a problem,” Yosuke told her, leaning back against a store wall and smiling to himself. “I’ll even tell him you’re so worried about him that you’re harassing me and making threats.”

 

She sputtered a little at that, indignation clear in her voice. “What? Hey, I never–”

 

“Maaaayyybe you did though,” he teased. “And maybe not. But he wouldn’t know that, would he?”

 

“You know I’ll have to make you pay for that when I see you again, right?” she threatened in a low growl.

 

Yosuke shrugged, not losing his smile. “That’s more like it. And I’m game for that so long as it doesn’t involve buying you another steak dinner or new clothes.”

 

She gave another disgusted sigh, but he could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

 

“Not a chance.”

 

Chie snorted and he could imagine her shaking her head. “Yeah, well, don’t hurt yourself by thinking too hard and doing too many things at once. I know that breathing and thinking at the same time can be hard for you.”

 

“Oooo, ouch. That was good. I’ll have to warn Ichijo about your temper the next time I see him.”

 

“I… he…” She was definitely wide-eyed now. And probably opening and closing her mouth while thinking of what to say.

 

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckled. “I’ll look after him too, make sure no one tries to step in on your territory. Last thing we need is to have to bail you out because some girl asked him for homework or something.”

 

“You really know how to piss me off, do you know that?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Anyway, keep in touch and don’t work too hard at, you know, studying and going to class.”

 

The line went dead a second later and Yosuke laughed to himself, pocketing his phone. “Yeah yeah, you too.”

 

The noise near Rise had died down, and the starlet walked over to him while her manager was talking to some other guys in suits. “Yosuke-senpai!” she called and waved. “Thanks for waiting!”

 

He shrugged, trying for a cool, nonchalant smile. “Hey, no problem. You wanted to hang out so who am I to turn down the great Rise?”

 

She giggled and grinned up at him, bright like a flame in her favorite orange and yellow ensemble, though the clothes were definitely more expensive than what she wore around Inaba. And her makeup was a bit heavier too. Not that it made her less stunning when she smiled or laughed. “No need to try and act cool, senpai,” she told him. “You’re already there. A few girls were asking who you were, actually.”

 

Yosuke perked up and looked around, trying to figure out which of the girls talking to Inoue or comparing their autographs and texting on their phones she might have been talking about. “Oh yeah? Which ones?”

 

Rise giggled again. “Sorry, they already left. I think they were so nervous about the idea of talking to you that they got cold feet.”

 

That brought a groan from Yosuke’s throat, and he gave her a long-suffering look. “Couldn’t you have told me about this before?”

 

“Nope!” she chirped, walking past him and pointing to a half-full café further down the mall from where they’d come for an ‘all-welcome meet ‘n greet’ to answer questions and fire up the hype for her upcoming tour. Most idols would have done that through the media and a press release, but Rise always wanted to get to know her fans. “I need something to drink,” she continued, “and Inoue said he’d call when he’s done. Would you like to join me?”

 

Lunch with Risette? He’d be crazy to turn down such an offer. He smiled and held a hand out. “I’d love to. Ladies first.”

 

Rise laughed this time and walked toward the restaurant she’d pointed out, taking a chair at a table next to the mall-facing window and looking at the menu almost before the server had greeted them. Yosuke took his seat, decided on something robust and meaty, and made small talk with Rise until their food came. Then he just ate his food and kept his hands on his side of the table while she dug into her meal like she hadn’t eaten in days. For someone who took such small bites, he was impressed how fast she put half her sandwich away. Being at the centre of attention must have been a good calorie burner.

 

“I was thinking,” he told her after she started to slow down enough to hear him. “This is the first time I’ve seen this part of your work, and we never really talked about it when we were in Inaba.”

 

She cocked her head to the side, smiling impishly. “You want to know about modelling and being an idol, senpai? Want to get into the business?”

 

“Nah, not really,” he chuckled, eyes narrow as he thought over what he had planned. “That wouldn’t be me. But we don’t get a lot of chances to talk like this so… well… actually, let’s play a game.”

 

“A game?”

 

“Tit for Tat,” he clarified. “I tell you something about myself, you tell me something about yourself.”

 

Rise blinked a few times, then shrugged. “We can, but what brought this up?”

 

“When we met back in Inaba, we had a lot going on,” Yosuke recalled. “And even when you were part of the group, we never talked about your job and what it was like. So I guess I’m curious if there’s more to Rise than what we know.”

 

Rise batted her eyes at him like she was trying to charm him, the platonic smile giving her away. “Checking up on me, senpai? Fishing for information?”

 

“That’s… no, not really. We’ve never sat down and talked before, and it doesn’t look like Inoue-san will be done any time soon. So what do you say?”

 

“Okay, let’s give it a try,” Rise told him, sitting up in her chair and focusing her attention on him. “I have a bunch of questions for you too.”

 

The was a surprise. He’d never thought anyone could have unanswered questions about him. “For me? Why?”

 

“Ah ah ah,” she teased, shaking her head, “you don’t get to ask that at the start. We have to start with the small stuff first. Something simple, but something we haven’t talked about before.”

 

Definitely intrigued about what she’d said, Yosuke leaned back and thought hard about everything he knew about her and everything that had fallen through the cracks. “Okay… favorite pet. One you’ve owned or one you’d like to.”

 

“We had a dog when I was in grade school. Small and fluffy,” she described happily, giving him an idea of its size with her hands, “and she loved getting into the laundry hamper. It drove my mom crazy.”

 

“That would be nice. We never had a dog, or a pet until Teddie came to live with us. Your turn.”

 

“Favorite singer or band,” she told him without hesitation. “And you can’t say that it’s me; that’s cheating.”

 

“I’m not picky, so I don’t really stick to one artist. I like what I like, and that’s usually something with some real feeling and history behind it. How about you?”

 

She was almost bouncing in her seat when he asked. “World Order. It’s a dream of mine to meet Sudo-san and get his autograph or talk to him. You should hear what some of the studio recorders say about him and how he makes his songs.”

 

So it went, back and forth. Yosuke talked about his friends in the city who’d gotten him into music and some of the best concerts he’d been to. Rise mentioned her cousin who’d pushed her into becoming an idol, who’d practiced with her until she could sing any note purely by feel, and she told Yosuke about her perfect pitch and how it had helped her singing.

 

It became clear, after another round, that there was something Rise wanted to ask. She looked a bit surprised when he pointed that out. “Come on, it’s okay,” he told her. “Whatever it is, it won’t hurt if you ask.”

 

“I don’t think it’s something you could answer in one go,” she hedged, squirming a bit while her right hand rubbed the back of her left.

 

Yosuke brushed it off, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “I can take it. Fire away.”

 

Rise nodded and let out a breath. “It’s about when we were in the TV,” she began slowly. “I was always kind of curious about what it was like for you since you and Senpai were the first ones to start the investigation.”

 

Yosuke’s smile lost its shine, and he blinked a few times. “Go on,” he told her a moment later.

 

“Well, you were…” Rise looked up to search for her words, “different, I guess. Senpai was the leader, Chie-senpai was good at hitting stuff, and Yukiko-senpai, well, everyone loves her. But you fought as hard as the rest of us, even harder sometimes, and it feels like I don’t know you very well. You’re kind of a mystery, but you’d been fighting with Senpai from the very beginning. And you did so much for the investigation that you sorta deserve more than that.”

 

He leaned back and let out a long breath. What a question. It took him back to the riverbank, when he and Souji had beaten the crap out of each other with everything they had because he couldn’t work out how he’d felt. It occurred to him that he’d never thought about how the others saw him, either. He’d been so focused on getting the job done and unravelling the murders that he’d never stopped and looked around.

 

“That’s a tough one,” he told her after a moment. Where to start?

 

“Sorry,” she murmured, backing up into her chair. “It’s probably none of my business.”

 

“A lot of what you told me was none of mine when you think about it,” he replied steadily, smiling to encourage her back to the table. “And it’s not like it’s a secret or something.”

 

He told her about how he got started, why he’d gone into the TV in the first place, and how much it scared the hell out of him to see his darker half walk out of a mirror and try to kill him. He thought about leaving it there, but decided to tell her about Saki-senpai, to fill in the gaps he’d been in too much pain to tell her before and about how far his hopes and interpretations of their relationship actually were from the truth. He told her how much it hurt and how it tore him up when he heard that frustrated, angry voice in the liquor store, and how it was worse when he saw the others go through the same thing.

 

“I’m really sorry about her,” Rise told him, her hand opening and closing like she wanted to reach across the table. “I didn’t… that couldn’t have been easy.”

 

“It wasn’t,” he replied, his smile a bit sad and mostly accepting. “But it wasn’t easier for anyone else, and it’s not like there was a choice to back out and walk away once my Persona woke up. So I kept going until we finished it.”

 

“Because you wanted to protect us?” she asked, a small hitch in her voice. “I remember a few times when you fought harder than any of us to keep going. When we were looking for Naoto-kun, you pushed the hardest to get to her.”

 

Yosuke shrugged, a bit embarrassed at her words. Had he been fighting hardest to get to Naoto? He couldn’t remember. Those last few months of the investigation had been a living hell for him. “I guess so. I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

 

“I would,” she whispered, and something in her eyes caught his and wouldn’t let go. “You went through a lot at the beginning and only had Senpai and Teddie to help you through it, plus losing someone who meant a lot to you. I don’t know if anyone’s ever said it, but I really appreciate everything you did for us. Honestly. All of us would have been in a lot of trouble if you weren’t there, so thank you.”

 

Yosuke pulled back and looked at the table, swearing at the heat he felt rising in his cheeks. “Well, it’s…” It was the first time a girl had tripped him up this much with words. “Thanks, I guess. It’s… well, it all worked out in the end.”

 

“Yeah,” she smiled, the mood less heavy and her tone more familiar and fun-loving, “it did. You know, senpai, I’m glad we did this.”

 

Yosuke smiled and held his hands out in false conceit. “Of course it was a good idea; it was mine, wasn’t it?”

 

He smiled as she giggled, but when two girls passed the window next to him, he couldn’t help the habit of turning to check them out. Yeah… arms, legs, hips, everything checked out just fine. Maybe those were the girls Rise had mentioned, who had been into him and too shy to talk to him. He chuckled to himself and turned back to Rise.

 

And almost had a heart attack from how she was looking at him. Back straight, leaning forward, her eyes narrow and sharp and judging and her cheeks and mouth set in a definite frown. “Really, senpai?” she demanded accusingly. “Really?”

 

“W-wait, what’s the problem?”

 

“What’s the problem? I invited you out so we could talk and enjoy each other’s company, I even dressed my best because I was going out with a close friend, and you’re checking out other girls?”

 

Yosuke went still. It was more a force of habit than anything, but… but she looked really pissed. “C-c’mon, Rise, it was nothing personal.”

 

“It is personal when I spend my time with you and we have a good conversation going, and you eye up the first girl who comes along,” she told him, the volume of her voice becoming low and dangerous. Her eyes were beginning to burn the longer she stared at him. “It’s a big deal when I’m seen with a guy who thinks that other girls are more important than I am. How would that look for me?”

 

Yosuke tried to push back, but was stopped by his chair. “W-wait, wait a sec, someone wouldn’t go that far, would they?”

 

She nodded once, twice, very seriously. “Yes they would. It happens all the time. How would Kanamin react if she found out a guy I was with didn’t find me worth talking to?”

 

He hadn’t thought of that. It seemed ludicrous, but she wasn’t smiling in the slightest, and what little he know about her line of work did suggest that it was ridiculously competitive. Maybe even enough to take a picture out of context and slam Rise for it. “I’m really sorry,” he said, clasping his hands together and lowering his head in a fierce apology. “I never thought that could happen.”

 

Her tone was icy and prickled his skin in passing. “Are you serious?”

 

“Very serious. That didn’t occur to me. Please forgive me,” he said one more time, bowing a bit lower. She didn’t say anything, and he began to sweat despite the heat. “I mean it, Rise.”

 

He thought he heard something, and peeked up to investigate.

 

Her eyes were closed, her hand was up at her mouth, and she looked like she was trying her hardest to not laugh. “Okay,” she managed before she burst into laughter, her other hand over her stomach.

 

Yosuke blinked and set his hands on the table while he tried to comprehend her sudden change in mood. “Uh… what was that?”

 

He got nothing. She leaned over the table and laughed even harder.

 

 “Rise? Hellooo, Earth to Risette.”

 

“S-sorry, senpai,” she gasped out. “I’m sorry. But Chie-senpai promised to take me shopping next time I’m in Kyoto if I got back at you for her,” she told him, holding her phone out to him.

 

Yosuke took it and read the text, grumbling as soon as he got to the end. That figured… He should have kept his mouth shut about who he was with. “You did a great job,” he told her as he gave her back her phone. “You had me there.”

 

“Thanks for playing along with me, senpai,” she giggled, starting to calm down. “That was great.”

 

“I wasn’t playing along,” he pointed out, already thinking of ways to get back at Chie. “I really thought you were serious.”

 

“I couldn’t do something like that with Souji-senpai,” she continued. “He’d see right through it or wouldn’t freak out like you did. It’s nice to do something normal for a change.”

 

“Going out for food and company is fine,” Yosuke told her, his smile returning. “Giving me a death stare like I drowned some puppies, we might have to talk about that.”

 

“I won’t do it again,” she promised, holding up a hand like she was making a vow. “Thanks for taking it so well.”

 

Rise’s phone went off then, and she sighed as she rolled her eyes. “Guess my break’s over. Thanks for coming out with me today, senpai.”

 

“I can come with you if you need help with something,” he told her, rising from his seat.

 

“Thanks,” she shook her head, “but I’m alright. Inoue and I are going to talk to some of our sound people for the tour, and I’ll probably be there for the rest of the day.”

 

“And you’ll be on the road in a week or so,” Yosuke noted.

 

“Yeah, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. But I’ll call when I can,” she promised.

 

“So will we,” he told her. “We’ll hold down the fort until you get back. But we want pictures and souvenirs when you’re back in town.”

 

“Thanks, senpai, and I will. Good luck with everything.” She bowed, then came around and gave him a quick, friendly hug before she paid her tab and left, scurrying back to the part of the mall where her adoring fans and associates mobbed her earlier.

 

Yosuke watched her go until she turned the corner, then paid his own bill and went in the opposite direction, toward the music store. He was looking through the foreign music aisle when he got a text:

_“Thanks for everything, Yosuke-senpai. It’s nice to be able to talk with a normal guy, and no matter what you think you did or didn’t do for us back then, you’re pretty cool._

_~Let’s do this again sometime! :3”_

 

He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, and took a moment to appreciate the squiggly lines and slanted font Rise used, adding her own flair to the complex kanji characters.

 

Another outing with Rise? Another chance to have his eardrums punctured by screaming fans? He found that he didn’t mind that idea in the slightest.

 

At least Rise paid for her own meals.

 

\---

_“Hey. So… the other day, I was… things were tough. Lots was goin’ on and it all felt like it was hittin’ at once. Wasn’t your fault, and I… I feel really bad about what I said and how we ended up. So, if you get the chance, could we talk? In person? I’d… yeah, call when you can. I miss you.”_

Kanji-kun had sent the message four days after their fight, and only now, eleven days later, could Naoto respond to it. She’d meant to call him before he had left the message, but work and meetings with the career counsellors at school and some complications that had thrown half a dozen of her cases into disarray all kept her occupied until now. She’d called and tried to make arrangements before, but last-minute problems kept cropping up. They’d set today as the day to meet, and she’d turned her phone to vibrate and told her Grandpa in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want to be interrupted unless Japan was sinking into the ocean.

 

The same bus took her to the same stop, but seemed to take twice as long. Naoto checked her watch, her phone, the window and the road passing by on the other side of it, and impatiently went through the cycle again and again until, finally, her stop came up. She forewent courtesy or patience and was the first one off the bus, jumping from the top step to the pavement and running to the textiles shop in her fastest personal time. Throwing the door open, she realized when she touched the wall paneling, would have been too much like one of the soap operas that Rise-san watched and gushed about, and Naoto didn’t want to burst in without considering her appearance. It was impossible to be certain without a mirror, but she took a few minutes to straighten her coat and make sure her cap was on straight and her hair was, unlike usual, still neatly tied back at the base of her neck. It was a style she’d taken to after asking Yukiko-senpai for suggestions, and she hadn’t had the time to do anything more with it.

 

_You’re such a girl now,_ she thought to herself. And she smiled. To use Yosuke-senpai’s words, she was alright with that.

 

“Welcome to Tatsumi Textiles. Oh, Naoto-san. Good afternoon,” Tatsumi-san greeted her with her usual welcoming smile.

 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. You’ve been well?”

 

“Yes, quite well. It’s been lovely out, hasn’t it?”

 

Proficient as she’d become with small talk, this was quickly grinding like an abrasion disc on her last nerve. “It has, Tatsumi-san. Is Kanji-kun here?”

 

“Of course. He should be caught up in the next day or so. A regular client of ours brought us some new business and references, so he’s been working around the clock. I hope you don’t mind; he’s been worried you might have misunderstood why he hasn’t been available.”

 

Naoto blinked, her rush put on a temporary hold while she was in simultaneous awe of and admiration for a woman’s intuition. “That had crossed my mind, but I have been occupied with work as well,” she replied a moment later. “If you don’t mind, could I speak to him?”

 

“Of course, dear. He’s due for a break.”

 

The younger woman nodded, shucked her shoes and put on her usual slippers (the same blue pattern as her pajamas. Kanji-kun had blushed when he’d said those were reserved as hers, but she’d turned just as red when she’d thanked him) before heading to his workshop.

 

She knocked and slid the door open at the same time, meeting his eyes as she entered. He was right near the entrance, tense like he’d been pacing, and she barely had the time to try to greet him when he pulled her into a hug that was almost tight enough to push the air from her lungs. Almost wasn’t enough, though, so she hugged him back just as hard, his familiar warmth and scent filling her from the inside out.

 

“I missed you,” he murmured, his cheek against the top of her head while his hand stroked her hair.

 

“Me too,” she replied, content to let him go so they could address the problem. But his arms tightened around her a bit more and she felt him breathing longer and deeper. “Kanji-kun?” she asked, aware of how, despite being younger than her, despite her recent growth spurt, he still towered over her.

 

“Sorry,” he said a moment later when he released her. “That shampoo suits you though. And I’ve never seen you with your hair like that.”

 

Naoto wasn’t sure what type of shampoo she was using now. Something new, but the name and brand slipped her mind. She promised herself she’d check it when she got home. “Thanks,” she murmured, pulling back to look at him. “Are you alright?”

 

Kanji-kun looked away and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He was deep in thought for a moment, then walked over to the wall and sank down to sit on the floor. Naoto sat next to him, almost but not quite touching as she looked at him, waiting until he started. “Things were a mess before,” he began. “School was just part of it. A big part of it, but it wasn’t everythin’. Ma had to go to the hospital because her doctor thought he saw somethin’ on a test.”

 

Naoto hissed with a sharp breath. Tatsumi-san had seemed as cheerful as ever, but was she keeping something to herself?

 

Kanji-kun didn’t look over, but it was clear he know where her mind was going. “Turned out to be nothin’. A change in her diet or meds or something, and he was new so maybe he just didn’t know how her charts looked. Either way, scared the hell out of me. Same as it did when Senpai was still here.”

 

Souji-senpai knew about this? Naoto frowned a little to herself and made a mental note to ask him for the details.

 

“It got me to thinkin’,” Kanji-kun continued. “About Inaba, about me an’ where I wanna go in life. And even if I could go to university, I don’t think I would. We got a good customer base here, and we’re gettin’ more an’ more business these days. I know it ain’t a sure thing, economics bein’ like you said, but there’re other people I can talk to and connections I can make to stay in business. And there’s the money side of goin’ to university, and I’d be worried about Ma if I went away for that long.” He let out a long breath. “That’s what I was tryin’ ta say before. I get that school’s a big thing to you an’ our senpai, and I think I’d learn a lot if I went. But Ma ain’t gettin’ any younger, and it’d kill me if somethin’ happened to her when I wasn’t here.”

 

“You can’t let that fear stop you from doing what you want,” she told him quietly. “If you’re certain that this is what you want to do, then I see your rationale and I agree with it. But I hope you’re not doing this because you think you should, or because you think you can’t do something.”

 

“It ain’t like that,” he told her softly, turning to smile at her, and this time looking genuinely happy. “Sewin’ an’ crafts, this place, it’s what I am. Nothin’s gonna change that. But I can learn from other people, go on business trips and conferences and pick up everythin’ I can. I don’t need ta go to university ta do that, though. And this way, Ma ain’t gotta worry about goin’ bankrupt just to put me through school, or about takin’ on help an’ teachin’ em from scratch.”

 

Naoto reached out to hold his hand, the familiar feeling of his larger digits twining with her smaller ones a comfort that told her without words _“Everything will be fine.”_ It was enough to make her shuffle over until their shoulders were touching. “I’m glad you’ve given this so much thought,” she told him. “And I think it’s a very good idea. It will be difficult at first, but that’s the same with anyone. If this is the path you’re set on, then I know you’ll do well.”

 

Kanji-kun chuckled and seemed genuinely happy when he looked at her. “Thanks,” he murmured. “Means a lot to hear that. I’m sorry about before, by the way.”

 

“So am I,” she replied, looking up into those dark eyes that said so much about him better than he could with words. When she thought of the circumstances, the fluttering in her heart, and where she was, she let her impulse guide her. She reached up to pull his face down to her, ignoring his surprise, and leaned up to kiss him. It was clumsy and poorly aimed since she’d closed her eyes too soon. All she caught was the edge of his mouth, and only for a second, but it jolted through her and left her warm.

 

When she looked up at Kanji-kun, she was greeted by a flabbergasted look of clear surprise. Mechanically, he raised his free hand to where they’d connected, trying to register what had happened. “Uh,” he began, “that was… really nice.”

 

Naoto blushed and lower her head, internally berating herself for not thinking through the ramifications of her first kiss. And his, by the looks of it. “Yes, it was,” she whispered back, thinking of ways to handle this situation. Explanations? Questions? Changing the topic? This wasn’t as easy as it usually was.

 

“Could… we try it again?” he asked then, derailing her thoughts completely while he blushed hard. “Seems, uh, like something we shouldn’t rush, y’know?”

 

Naoto blinked like a befuddled calf, trying to restart and reform her rampantly scattered thoughts. Finally she dismissed them entirely and tilted her head back, letting him kiss her softly so they could both take their time in learning.

 

It might have gone better if they weren’t both smiling as they did it.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

 

Souji jerked awake, sweat beading on him like he'd been pelted with the raindrops falling outside. A shout shattered on his teeth, dragged back down his throat when he recognized his room in Fujisawa. Then a sigh flowed out of him while he flopped back into bed and let his racing heart run.

 

Another nightmare. The third one this week, thanks to the rain. This time he couldn't remember what he'd seen or heard, or if there had been anything there in the first place. All he'd felt was the terror that chased him awake, the adrenaline pumping hard, and the pain digging at his scars. It took a while before his hands stopped shaking, and his heart pumped and tripped for longer than he liked. Long enough for him to realize, with a grimace, that he'd soaked his sheets in sweat and was lying against clammy covers. He scowled at the sound of the steady, tranquil _patter_ of the rain on his bedroom window.

 

He pushed himself up to look at his clock. It was a little early, but anything was better than trying to go back to sleep at this point. Either he'd toss and turn and end up cranky, or he'd sleep in and wake up feeling drugged. Neither would help him at this point; he had too much to do.

 

When he kicked off his blankets, stripped and took a morning shower next to his room (one of the perks of living in a high-end condo), he pushed the residual terror down and went over his mental checklist:

 

1) Find a job so he had proof of employment to put on his transcripts and so he could pay his expenses.

 

2) Find a way to bankroll his education without his father being able to interfere.

 

3) Keep his school records as confidential as possible so his father was as close to his affairs as Mars was. Or maybe Saturn.

 

4) Do it all in about... four days.

 

"I'm going to kill him," Souji muttered as he washed his hair and turned the water temperature down. "With a pair of pliers and a car battery." When he was finished and dripping water, he looked at his reflection in the mirror, brushing his hair back. He'd gotten it trimmed a few days to break up the monotony of job-hunting, and when he'd been unsure about what he wanted, the stylist got a canny smile and told him, "trust me," before taking the scissors to him. Instead of his bowl cut, his hair was layered and combed back with a few bangs leaning forward. It was more modern and a little more chaotic than he was used to, but it was a "sexy kind of messy," in Megumi's words when she saw him, and he had to agree with her. Rise had squealed and bounced and played with it with moment she saw him, so there was some backing to that opinion. He looked better, more like an adult, and it brought a smile to his face.

 

Souji dried off and put on a dress shirt, slacks, and a coat before grabbing something for breakfast and heading out the door with his attaché case and an umbrella. He kept the conversations with his roommates as polite and short as possible, and felt bad for it when he was on the street. He knew the others were getting worried, and he knew that keeping this to himself was a good sign of sliding into a bad habit, but he didn't know if or how they could help.

 

Better that he kept working at it, he told himself. If he was still up the creek with no discernible means of moving his boat by tonight, he'd swallow his pride and talk to them. He hated dragging them into his family life, but he wasn't about to drop out of university. Amagi Katsushiro wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he did, and the disappointed look that Ryoko-san would probably give him was all the motivation he needed to keep his options open, dig his heels in, and find a good employer.

 

If only it were that easy.

 

As much as he tried to smile through it all, keeping it going was hard when, six visits later, he was still treading water. Everyone was polite to him, but the same questions and answers were always coming up. "No openings," "no places for students," "why hadn't he applied at an earlier date?" and so on. He wasn't sure if that was what they were saying, or if he was just remembering all the responses he'd heard already and droning out the present when he saw the same regretful look over and over.

 

"One more," he told himself as he entered a modestly-sized office building. After this one he was going to stop for lunch. Rise and Yosuke had given him a list of places they'd hit up already, and so far their recommendations had led to some great finds. He planned to find them again and pester the workers for recipes when he had money and some time to spare.

 

"Good afternoon," a cute secretary told him, bowing, as he approached. "How can I help you?"

 

Coming to this place was a crapshoot, and he knew that. A medium-sized and growing financial firm, not too far from the university campus, and, from what he'd read, an engaging mix of big-money professionalism and small-town approachability. Just the type of place that would be a great place to work, not to mention just the sort of place to be checked out by the local finance students.

 

"I was hoping to speak to someone from HR please," Souji told her with a smile while the doors opened behind him. "I'm a local student and I was hoping to find a job while I'm attending classes."

 

"You'd have to speak to our HR manager about that, and– ah, hello Etsuko-san, and hello Akane-chan," she said over his shoulder, when he turned to look, to a lovely, newly pregnant woman who looked to be in her early thirties, and a little girl holding her hand. "Excuse me, sir," the secretary told him before addressing them again, "Minoru-san should be down shortly."

 

"There's no rush, Tomiko-san," the woman, Etsuko-san, told her with a smile while she rubbed her stomach. "Please, don't let me interrupt."

 

Souji's eyes narrowed a little. With fine-boned features and wavy black hair, she looked a bit familiar, but he couldn't think of how or why. Maybe it was the pregnant glow. The girl, wearing a rain slicker with koi and sparrows on it, reminded him of Nanako when they went on grocery expeditions back in Inaba while it was raining. But besides that... no, he thought, he couldn't place where he'd met them. Or if he had and he wasn't just confusing them with someone else.

 

"Of course. My apologies, sir," the secretary told him brightly. "As I was saying, you would have to speak to our HR manager about that. Might I set up an appointment?"

 

"That would be perfect," Souji replied, holding his smile in place and not letting himself believe that he was running into another dead end. "Would I be able to see him sometime this week? Sooner would be better."

 

"I'll check his schedule for you. I think he has some openings." She turned when the elevator gave a quiet _ding_ and a tall, distinguished man walked out. "Minoru-san, I'll hold your calls and pass on anything urgent or pertinent."

 

"Thank you," the man replied, an air of expertise and skill about him that set off the kind smile he gave her. "I'll be back shortly."

 

"Please take your time, sir. We'll handle things here."

 

He nodded and walked to Etsuko-san, and Souji raised an eyebrow when they kissed lightly. It was rare for a Japanese businessman to be so openly affectionate with his spouse in the presence of others. The man must have felt comfortable here, or perhaps he didn't care about what others thought. The latter seemed more likely given he had to be ten to fifteen years older than the woman. Either way, it was a touching gesture, and the way the woman's eyes lit up told Souji that the relationship, despite their apparent differences in age, was still going strong. "I'll take the earliest appointment I can," Souji told the secretary when he turned to her. "Do you know when that might be?"

 

"He has some openings on Thursday and Friday, and I can set you up for a morning appointment if that works for–"

 

"Onii-chan?" the girl piped up, looking at Souji and walking closer with wide, round eyes. "Onii-chan!" she cried, running up to him and glomping onto his leg.

 

Souji stepped back, balancing and blinking down at her. "Um..."

 

"Akane!" Etsuko-san cried sharply. "Akane, you know better than to do that with strangers!"

 

The girl didn't let go. Instead she squeezed harder. "But it's him, Mommy!"

 

"Me?" Souji hadn't been this confused in a while, and it was such a novel feeling that it was as inclined to let go as the child was. When he looked to the secretary and the girl's parents for an answer, all he got was a blank stare and a pair of horrified looks.

 

"Akane," Minoru-san told her, walking forward. "What do you mean... it's..."

 

Souji looked at them, becoming less certain of himself when they turned a bit pale as their eyes widened. "Um, it's okay. She's no inconvenience, and–"

 

"Sir," Minoru-san told him, stepping forward and looked as serious as a death sentence. "Please join us for lunch. I must insist."

 

"That's not necessary, sir," Souji replied out of reflex, trying to get some perspective on the situation. "You're with your family. I don't want to impose on something personal."

 

"We owe you much more than a meal," Etsuko-san told him gravely, bowing deeply in spite of her stomach. "Please join us. We cannot let this opportunity pass us by again."

 

Again? Souji looked down at the widely-grinning little girl who was still attached to his leg, staring up at him with bright green eyes. "Wait," he began, realization slowly coming on like a halogen light. Green eyes, a girl in a slicker on a rainy day...

 

"You helped us in Kofu and we never had the chance to repay you," Minoru-san told him. "There is a debt to be paid, and it would be a poor treatment of my reputation if I let this chance pass."

 

The wife nodded, stepping forward a bit. "We tried to find you after the accident, but you were nowhere to be found. You must let us repay you."

 

There was a tug on Souji's pants and two inquisitive eyes widened a little more. "Please, onii-chan?"

 

He took a moment to try and collect his thoughts and adapt to the sudden change in direction. "That's... this is a lot to take, but I'm not against the idea. I just wasn't expecting this."

 

"It's  a wonderful coincidence," Minoru-san asserted, giving the impression that leaving wasn't in the cards anymore. "I admit I've been trying to find you since then."

 

Etsuko-san held a hand up in front of her chest. "May I ask something? Actually, before that, may we know your name?"

 

"Seta Souji, ma'am."

 

"Seta-kun," she said, nodding with a smile.

 

"I apologize for my manners," the man told him. "I wasn't expecting this. I am Koyama Minoru, and this is my wife, Etsuko and our daughter Akane."

 

"Hi!" the girl chirped.

 

"I was wondering why you didn't contact us before now," the wife continued.

 

Koyama. That name had been in the company's profile on their website, but Souji couldn't remember which seat the man held. Either way, he was high up on the ladder. "Like I said," he told them, calming down enough that he could train his thoughts into order, "I was a bit of a mess after that, and it slipped my mind. I'm glad that Koyama-san's okay, though."

 

The girl confirmed that sentiment with an energetic nod. "Yep! Really okay! And now I always look both ways before crossing the street, so I'm real careful!"

 

"You don't need to be so formal, Seta-kun," Minoru-san told him with a welcoming smile. "Our first names are fine."

 

Souji paused. That was a rare show of friendliness, especially this close to Tokyo and its well-earned reputation for austere formality. "That's... Of course. I just don't want to seem rude."

 

The wife's smile had a bit of iron in it when she spoke. "We insist."

 

"Then I'll do that, Etsuko-san."

 

"Thank you," she replied, friendly once again. "I have wondered why you saving Akane wasn't reported on, honestly. Normally the news would have interviewed you or at least brought it up, but it seemed like you'd disappeared."

 

Souji chose his words carefully, and tried not to shrug it off too visibly. It probably said something tragic about him that running between cars and helping a complete stranger fell so well as something he'd do anyway, with or without a Persona, that he hadn't even thought of contacting the family of the girl he saved back then. Just the thought of that day and the breakdown that followed made him sweat and kicked his heart from second gear to fifth. He took a few breaths to keep it from showing. "It wasn't quite like that. I just had a lot going on at the time and didn't have the chance to take it all in." It was a lame excuse, and he knew it the moment he spoke the words. But he didn't want to tell them, or anyone, about what had followed and why he'd tried to put the memory of that day out of his mind.

 

She picked up on his hesitation and tilted her head to the side a little. "Nothing unpleasant, I hope?"

 

"I managed to get through it, ma'am."

 

"Either way," Minoru-san told him with a gesture toward the doors leading outside, "please join us. I can't accept any other answer with an opportunity like this, Seta-kun."

 

It was too good a chance to pass up. "I'd be glad to accept your offer, though I'd like to just finish up here before we do."

 

"Of course. What was your business here?"

 

"Seta-kun was making an appointment with Kusanagi-san," the secretary informed them.

 

"Are you looking for work?"

 

"That's right."

 

The man's smile grew a little wider. "We can discuss that over lunch then."

 

Souji's suspicions were beginning to stir, seeing a pattern unfold before his eyes and not prepared to believe it just yet. "Do you know him?"

 

"I do, as a matter of fact," the businessman told him casually. "He's worked for me for almost seventeen years."

 

It defied explanation, but he couldn't deny the proof right in front of him, and he wasn't going to turn the opportunity down. "You're the owner of this company, Minoru-san?"

 

"My father started it. Did you know that already?"

 

"I saw the Koyama name when I was researching the companies in the area."

 

That was clearly the right thing to say. Minoru-san chuckled and a look of approval lit up in his eyes. "You've done your homework. Good man."

 

Akane let go of his leg but tugged on his pants a little. "You're coming with us, right Onii-chan?"

 

Souji thought that he was immune to puppy eyes, especially after so long with Nanako and Rise. This girl was starting to prove him wrong. "It seems that I am. Do you have a place picked out?"

 

"We do," Etsuko-san assured him, tugging her coat a little tighter around her and her stomach. "Does donburi agree with you?"

 

"That would be perfect."

 

The trip to the restaurant was a surreal experience for Souji. They each walked under their umbrellas to keep the rain off and Akane-san had taken possession of one of his hands, curiously tugging on his gloves while her other hand was holding her mother's, and she filled in the spaces in conversation while Minoru-san explained who he was and what he and his business did. Etsuko-san was quiet for most of the trip except for tending to Akane-chan and adding a few points of her own. For himself, Souji just listened and formulated his questions and responses around the information he was getting. Before long, they arrived at the restaurant and were ordering their meals.

 

"Do you have much experience with finances, Seta-kun?" Minoru-san asked as they received their drinks.

 

"My parents are both in the business," Souji replied, keeping his features steady. "They work at the corporate level, but I'm familiar with most types and facets of the field."

 

"That's quite an accomplishment for someone of your age." Etsuko-san noted while she helped Akane-san out of her rain slicker and set their umbrellas to the side.

 

"It wasn't really my choice, but it has turned out rather well."

 

"Why are you looking for a job?" the business owner asked. "I don't mean to presume, but I wouldn't think that anyone as familiar with the business as you seem to be would have difficulty finding work."

 

"I'm new here," Souji explained. His accent apparently hadn't changed much during his time in Inaba if someone from around Tokyo hadn't noticed anything. "I transferred from out west, so I missed the chance to get my name in. Plus there's a mix-up at the university regarding the job I was supposed to have, so here I am."

 

"That's rare," Minoru-san noted with a frown.

 

"So I hear. I have it under control, though." For the most part. No need to get into the personal stuff.

 

"If you're going to university, then you're looking for something that moves around your class times, right?"

 

"That would be ideal. And maybe with some flexibility for a weekend off during the holidays." Best to keep his requests small and modest until he knew more.

 

"You'd like to spend it with your wife," Etsuko-san inferred, looking at the ring on his hand with a smile and a stroke to her stomach. "That's wonderful."

 

"We're not married yet," Souji corrected, not keeping the smile down. "Just engaged. She's going to school in Kyoto, and we've decided to hold things until we're done."

 

The woman's eyes narrowed a fraction, and he could read the sympathy in them. "You're so young. That must be difficult."

 

"We're managing so far, ma'am."

 

"It'll go well for you." Minoru-san predicted after a pull on his drink. "You have that look about you. Still, you won't find many opportunities around here right now. Most of the jobs have been taken by local students already, and most of what's left are for interns."

 

Souji bit his tongue to keep his sigh in, but he couldn't keep the dry smile that turned the edges of his lips up. "I thought that might be the case. The other companies I visited said the same thing."

 

Minoru-san looked at him, discerning and quiet like he was perusing his menu again despite their food coming just then, before he nodded. "That said, I feel like you would be an asset anywhere you worked, Seta-kun. When can you start?"

 

Souji wasn't unprepared for this, but hearing it said so directly threw him off balance. "When can– Sir, I appreciate the offer, but giving me a job on the spot is a bit much, isn't it?"

 

"I'm not giving you a job," the man corrected. "I'm giving you an opportunity. I want to see what you can do with my own eyes. If you are as skilled as you say you are, and if you prove to be a wise investment, then we will see about taking you on. You'll be paid for your time, regardless of how it turns out."

 

Calling it an opportunity was an apt description, and Souji knew that he wasn't in the clear yet. But it was a chance that he hadn't gotten from anyone else. Despite their prior insistence on familiarity, Souji got up and bowed deeply to them both. "Thank you for the chance, sir. It means everything to me."

 

Minoru-san waved him down, and wouldn't stop until Souji took his seat again. "It's a bargain from where I'm sitting, Seta-kun," the man told him seriously. "I meant what I told you before: my children and family are everything to me. As much as this opportunity might mean to you, it means just as much to us. I can't repay that debt, but this is a chance for me to try."

 

Souji smiled, feeling like he had some room to breathe. "That's very generous. I won't let you down."

 

The little girl on the other side of the table perked up, carefully working her chopsticks around the chunks of beef. "Are you going to stay with us, Onii-chan?"

 

"Yes, Akane-san. I will. Thank you again, sir."

 

"It's the least I can do," the man told him with a humorous hint of coldness in his voice. "And don't mistake this for charity: I'll work you to the bone if I have to."

 

Souji took the comment on the chin and inclined his head. "I would expect nothing less."

 

That brought a smile to the businessman's face again. "Perfect. Now then, let's eat. It's disrespectful to the food to let it get cold."

 

Lunch was an affair more comfortable than Souji would have expected. Minoru-san doted on his family, smiling at his wife and daughter more than once, and Akane-san enjoyed some of the same things Nanako was into when he left Inaba so Souji was able to keep up with her while they ate. That might have gotten him some extra points with her parents, but his mind was moving in two-minute miles and the conversation at the table was struggling to keep up. A job. He had a secure source of income, and he wouldn't be trying to pay his bills on Junes wages.

 

He stayed with the family until Minoru-san had to get back to the office. They parted with Souji handing over a resume while the older man told him, "stop by tomorrow and we'll get everything sorted out." As much as Souji wanted to shout or laugh, the weight finally off his shoulders and a path forward when he was about to give up, he stayed at the table and set his forehead against his hands. There was still so much to do, especially with classes starting in three days. But that thought, instead of bringing a headache, just made him smile.

 

He had an idea this time.

 

Souji collected his things and made a quick phone call to Kou, asking to meet him at their apartment as soon as he could. His blue-haired friend must have taken that seriously; he was sweating and breathing hard near apartment's front door, dressed in a t-shirt and running shorts, when Souji got there. Evidently his friend had been running in the condo's exercise room.

 

"What's up?" Kou asked while wiping at his face and sipping water.

 

"I need a favour," Souji admitted, getting right to the point. "I wouldn't normally ask this, but I'm in a bit of a bind and you're the only person I can talk to about this."

 

"Sure. You've got a lot of credit with me," Kou replied easily. "What do you need?"

 

The way he worded that was ironic enough to make Souji pause for a second. "Your family has a fair bit of history, doesn't it? The Ichijou name, from what I've heard, goes back further than Ieyasu."

 

Kou nodded. "That's right. Why?"

 

"They're among some of the original zaibatsus, right?" Souji continued.

 

Now Kou was beginning to look curious. "It's not that clear-cut, but you're roughly right."

 

"Alright, thanks. Now to my favour: I need a phone number."

 

Curiosity led into bemusement and suspicion. "Uh, okay. Whose?"

 

Souji breathed for a second, going over his idea again in his head and taking the plunge. "Whoever is in a position to handle money. I need to borrow some, and I promise I'll pay it back with interest."

 

"That's... Is that what's been bothering you recently? That you're low on cash?" Kou smiled and leaned back, beginning to understand the problem.

 

Souji chafed a little at the way Kou put it, but that was an easy assumption to make under the circumstances. "In a way. If I borrowed money from anyone, I would have needed a way to pay it off. That's been handled, so here I am. I don't think I can go to the banks in this case, so a private investor or business, like your family, is the best option I can think of."

 

Kou blinked a few times, his usual smile taking on a puzzled look. "This is pretty out of the blue, you know?"

 

"I wouldn't ask this if I had another choice, and I'm good for whatever I borrow," Souji promised, thinking of other ways to appeal to his friend. "If you need any extra information, or collateral, I can–"

 

"Whoa whoa." That apparently wasn't necessary, because Kou held his hands up. "It's okay. Like I said, you've got a lot of credit with me, and it's not as though I don't trust you. I just wasn't expecting it. But I'll get you that number. When do you need it by?"

 

"Last week would have been great," Souji admitted.

 

Kou pulled out his phone and gestured for him to come over. "Let's get to it then."

 

It hadn't been easy. Even with Kou's influence, even with the nature of the transaction being pretty simple, the family's financial advisor was suitably sceptical, especially about giving money to a stranger and making the arrangements over the phone. And when Souji named himself as his own co-signee, he was sure the man was going to hang up on him. But his choices were narrow. A bank's interest rates would have made it too difficult to pay off  given the bills he had, and he was sure that his father had spoken to several of the bank managers already. Borrowing anything from someone with a traceable name would have left a trail. An anonymous donor to a blank account that he happened to have access to, however, was exactly what he needed.

 

By the end of the day, Souji's problems were a step closer to being solved, and the looks he got when he completely paid for his tuition, registration and books the next morning made him want to take pictures more than once. Especially when two of the officials personally found him and tried to learn where he'd gotten the money from.

 

He'd cut it closer than he thought he could, but he was set. Minoru-san had welcomed him into the company on a provisional basis, and Souji began using his knowledge of the corporate world to give the man an angle in negotiating with clients and earning him contracts. It was easy for Souji to assume that he was working into the man's good graces.

 

Almost a week passed, a week of classes and meeting other students and hammering out a schedule with a loud, impromptu celebration for his "victory over the impossible," thrown by his roommates, when his phone rang. It was his father.

 

"I'd like to know how you did it," Seta Yuuma told him, not the least bit angry or perturbed. "I was expecting a call from you earlier, but you're employed and attending classes. To who do you owe that honour?"

 

"Myself," Souji told him while flipping through his books and taking notes. It was more of a refresher than anything new, but it didn't hurt to stay sharp, and at least he wouldn't have missed anything too important if he hadn't been able to attend his first classes. "I'm a rather resourceful person, after all."

 

Yuuma made a noise that sounded like a chuckle. "So you are. Where did you get the money to pay for everything?"

 

"How do you know I did?" Souji asked, trying to get some sort of a confession out of the man. "Maybe I put a payment plan together and I only got what I need for right now."

 

"I don't think you've ever done that," Yuuma noted after a second. "Even when you were six years old, you always wanted to pay for things all at once and deal with the interest later. I think you did it because you liked the challenge and wanted to see if you could pay it off by the time the extra rates were added."

 

Souji didn't have much to say to that, surprised that his father had any memories of him as a child. "It's been dealt with. That's all you need to know."

 

"Well done. I'm impressed that you managed it with so little time." He sounded like he really meant it.

 

"I'm flattered," Souji replied in a deadpan voice. "What does Mother think of this development?"

 

"She thinks the universities aren't what they used to be. Not like when we were there."

 

There was one thing his father was a master at: keeping up the facade. Souji shook his head. "Of course she does. Doesn't she think the timing is rather convenient?"

 

"She's looking after her own affairs right now," Yuuma told him, his tone becoming more serious. There have been some changes at work, and she's been making some adjustments."

 

Souji snorted, only able to imagine how distraught she'd be if her precious career was hitting the brakes. "Pass on my condolences," he replied dryly.

 

"I will," his father told him with a growing tone of interest in his voice. "She'll be glad to hear from you because she wants to know about the girl you're seeing."

 

"I told you," Souji replied with a sigh, "I'm not seeing anyone. I wouldn't have the time to date anyone with all these classes to take and costs to work off, would I?"

 

"You're lying again," Yuuma told him with certainty.

 

"Believe what you want, Father. If that's all–"

 

"She has long black hair, doesn't she?"

 

Souji's heart stopped. He sat up in a snap, dumping his books and notes to the floor. "What?"

 

"Cut straight at the bangs," Yuuma continued. "Pale skin, and she looks very appropriate in a kimono. A red one, made by a professional."

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"Your mother was wondering who she is. I think she wants to meet her. This girl's in Inaba, isn't she?"

 

Souji's mind scrambled until he crushed the panic with his boot, eyes narrowing as he processed everything his father had just said. "How does... why does Mother think that I'm seeing this person? Or anyone, for that matter? That's a nice guess on your part, but lots of girls have black hair."

 

Yuuma's smirk was almost audible on the phone line. "That's something you'll have to talk to her about. But she does want to know. It's been bothering her lately and she thinks that you've been keeping secrets from her."

 

The number of people who could have told his parents anything about Yukiko was exceedingly low. And what his father described wasn't what she normally wore. A red kimono... "That was a good try, but it takes more than that to rattle me," Souji bluffed. "Which magazine did you get that picture from?"

 

"It's not a guess," Yuuma assured him, "and I think you owe us an answer. Tell me what her name is."

 

Souji's eyes narrowed. Was that speculation and deduction on his father's part? Or did he have a solid reason for thinking that? "I don't know why you think I met some girl in Inaba. I spent a lot of time in Okina City while I was out there. Met some really interesting people who dressed up because they wanted to look classy in spite of being out in the sticks."

 

"But you didn't connect with them, did you? You spent most of your time in Inaba, and that's where she is."

 

It wasn't a guess, Souji realized with growing horror. His father hadn't taken the bait, so he had to have some concrete reason for narrowing it down to Inaba. That or he was playing with him, but that was too distant a possibility given how certain he sounded.

 

"Like I said, your mother is curious about–"

 

"Tell her I say, "Hi," when you see her," Souji replied in a rush before cutting the call. He flipped through his contacts, sparing a second to glance at his clock, before he hit "send" and listened to the ringtones.

 

Three of them passed before she picked up. "H'llo? Doujim–" there was a long yawn, "resdence."

 

"Hey Nanako. Sorry to call so late."

 

"Oh, hey Big Bro," she replied sleepily, none of her usual sunshine and sparkles in her voice. "'T's okay."

 

"Is your dad there?"

 

"Sure. Daddy," she called.

 

There was some shuffling before the receiver was picked up again. "Hey," the older man greeted. "What's up?"

 

"Sorry for calling so late," Souji started, his voice tense. "I didn't want to wake Nanako up."

 

"She was just about to go to bed."

 

"I can wait if you want to tuck her in," Souji told him, ice touching his mind and voice. "There's something I need to talk to you about. Family related."

 

Doujima paused before he gave a quiet grunt. "Give me a minute."

 

Souji straightened up his books while he waited, hearing the phone being picked up again a minute or so later, then the opening and closing of a door and footsteps going down some wooden stairs. It sounded like Doujima had gone into the attached garage. "What is it?" the detective asked.

 

"I got a call from my parents tonight," Souji told him flatly. "My father in particular. He gave me a pretty good description of Yukiko when she was dressed for New Years and wanted to know if she was from Inaba."

 

Doujima let out a groan but didn't say anything.

 

"He was way too close to the mark for it to have been a coincidence. Did you have something to do with that?" It was hard to keep the accusation out of his voice.

 

"I sent a picture of you two to your mother," his uncle told him after a few seconds. "I haven't told them anything else, and I'm not going to."

 

Souji bit his tongue, taking a few seconds so his words would stay civil. "Can I ask why you did this?"

 

"Because she's my sister," Doujima replied, his own tone hardening. "There are things I needed to talk to her about, and how she's handling things with you is part of it."

 

Souji waited for more, but nothing else came. "So you reached out to them and got Yukiko involved without telling me?"

 

"I didn't get her involved in anything," Doujima insisted. "Izumi doesn't know who she is, and neither does your father."

 

"My father trashed my scholarships and my job here just to keep my under his thumb!" Souji snapped. "He's practically admitted that he pulled those strings. Do you think he'd stop at that if he knew about Yukiko?"

 

"He won't. I've taken care of that angle so don't worry about it."

 

Souji hissed in disbelief. "You... You've taken care of it? When was the last time you saw him? Or talked to him? Do you know how many people have gotten in his way over the years? How many aren't in business anymore? How do you know what's enough to cover your tracks when you're dealing with him?"

 

"Do you think he'd try to get around the police? We're not a business he can push around or an executive he can bribe. Law enforcement's law enforcement, no matter where it is."

 

"That wouldn't stop him," Souji told him, trying and failing to keep his tone steady. "It won't stop my mother either, not if she gets it in her head that she wants to play at being a family again, or if she starts digging into the people back there because she's curious about me. I've told you already that that's the last place I want her."

 

"You're not giving her a chance," Doujima pointed out. "She does take things seriously, especially if she's got a good reason to. If there's a chance to mend these bridges, then she'll get on board with it."

 

The cold rationality in his uncle's voice made Souji's teeth grate together. "I don't care what she wants! She had her chances, they both did, and I don't need them getting involved in my life now. Especially not if Yukiko's involved because, in case you've forgotten, that Inn is a small business. Father dearest would torpedo them into the ground out of spite if he knew it would get to me, so what are you going to do about that?"

 

"That's enough," Doujima growled. "Like I said, I've taken precautions against that. I didn't put her in the crosshairs, and I haven't sold her family up the river, so calm down. Give me some credit."

 

Souji grit his teeth and bit into his words until they lost their edge. As angry as he was getting, he didn't want to alienate the few relatives he could talk to. "Why did you get her involved in the first place? My mother's been happy at her job since before Nanako was even born. She'd gladly work there until she dies and up to now that hasn't been a problem. She never called while I was there, either time, and you were happy to let that slide. What's changed?"

 

Doujima let out a long breath. "We're a family. No matter what happens, that should mean something. That's what you and Nanako said, right?"

 

Souji bit into his knuckles to keep his words down. He didn't bother holding down the growl.

 

"You might have problems with her as your mother," his uncle continued, "but she is and will always be my sister. There's a lot of history there that doesn't just go away because we haven't talked lately. And Nanako's growing up, so she should know the people she's related to as more than just names."

 

"That doesn't explain why you got me involved," the younger of the two told him after he pried his teeth off his finger.

 

"You're part of that family too. If Izumi starts visiting or talking to me about you, I can't lie to her. I won't tell her everything, but I'm not going to pretend that you being here didn't happen, and she's going to want to know about you."

 

Souji was beginning to regret all the long, late-night talks and arguments he'd had with his uncle on the topic of family. For the first time yet, he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "She might ask, but she won't mean it enough for it to matter. She'll lose interest of get a call and go back to work and not talk to you for another decade. It would save you a lot of trouble if you just lied to her."

 

It took Doujima a few seconds to respond. "Do you really mean that? You're actually serious?"

 

Why were people so surprised to hear him say that? This hadn't been the first time. "She's made her decision, and she's not going to change. Not for you, not for Nanako, and definitely not for me; I'm just her kid."

 

"You don't know that until you try," Doujima objected with a note of resignation in his voice. "Either way, I sent that to her because she deserves to have some sort of an idea what you're up to. And nothing else would have gotten her attention this fast."

 

"So Yukiko and I are just bait? That's not your call to make," Souji hissed.

 

"Maybe, but I made it. That's part of being a family sometimes, so I'm sure you'll forgive me."

 

Souji couldn't hold the words back this time. "Don't you DARE say that! Yukiko and I have nothing to do with her. If you want to try talking to her for Nanako's sake, fine, do it on your own. But you had NO right to bring us into this! Not when you don't know _anything_ about who your sister is now!"

 

"I know who my sister is," Doujima assured him in a cold, hard tone. "I knew her for a long time before you came into the picture. You might hate it, but she is your mom, and Amagi's tied to the hip with you. It does concern you, and that means that it will concern her."

 

Souji's breath whistled between his teeth when he collected his words, but Doujima beat him to it.

 

"I know you don't trust your parents. I know things have been hard for you, and if you want to tell them off every chance you get, that's fine, you can go right ahead. But this is my family too. It's Nanako's family, and if there's a chance for us to connect more with my sister, then I'm going to take it. I won't let this get back to Amagi. I promise you that, and if things get too hot, I'll step in and put a stop to it. But I am going to talk to your mother and try and work things out with her. We'll see where it goes from there."

 

Souji bit back a number of particularly foul words, not sure how much English and Korean his uncle knew. "Don't get me involved in this. Not again and not either one of us. Reach out and mend bridges for Nanako if you want, but you keep me and Yukiko and anything to do with Inaba out of it. I'm _not_ letting her screw everything up now."

 

His uncle took a few seconds before replying in resignation. "You're serious, aren't you? You really want to leave it there?"

 

"I don't care, Doujima. Your sister and her husband have nothing to do with me. That's where I sit with them. My life has nothing to do with them and the less I hear about them or from them, the happier I'm going to be."

 

"We'll see. I get that you're angry, but we're not on opposite sides here and I'm not going to throw you under the bus. I'll talk to you later."

 

"Yeah."

 

Doujima hung up and Souji threw his phone against the wall, fist clenched and wishing, more than anything, that he still had a murder to solve and a TV to jump into: he REALLY wanted to break something right now. He was out of his chair and pacing the room before he gave it any thought, teeth gritted against the urge to scream and swear. He wanted to, more than anything, but he was aware of Yosuke and Kou resting or sleeping nearby and he didn't want to bother them with yet more of his family-related drama.

 

It took him a while to relax enough to unclench his fists without feeling like he wanted to throw his desk out the window. He should have seen this coming, Souji told himself. When his uncle mentioned trying to mend bridges back in Inaba, he should have paid more attention. Should have thought of the implications a lot more.

 

Doujima's rationale made sense though. Nanako was and would always be first in his life, and they both knew that she needed more of a connection to the people around her than just her friends and an on-call father. "Wish he could have picked someone else for the job though," Souji told the empty room.

 

He tapped his forehead against the wall while his temperature levelled off, then turned back to his phone. As much as he hated doing this, there wasn't a choice now. Forewarned was forearmed, and this time there were more than Shadows at stake.

 

\---

 

"You're sure everything's fine?" he asked her again, looking concerned and curious. Yukiko thought it made him look very handsome and utterly adorable at the same time. The way his eyes were open just a little more than usual reminded her of Chie's dog when he was looking at her and begging for a treat, and that image was only reinforced by how his head was tilted to the side just so. It called a childhood memory to mind, when she'd gone over to visit Chie and the dog was eating meaty canned food out of the bowl. He must have recognized her scent, because he scarfed down the rest of his food and came over to say hello, gravy and slobber dripping from his mouth. Chie had come over to try and clean him up, but when Yukiko saw his big eyes and the mess he was making, she lost control and laughed so hard that she doubled over and ended up on the floor, which invited the dog to lick her and make a mess of her shirt. At the time it had been impossible to explain to her parents what had happened without breaking down into another giggle-fit.

 

She had a hand across her mouth to keep her mirth down, knowing he wouldn't get the joke. That didn't stop her from wanting to play with his hair though, especially since he looked rather fetching with his new cut. "I talked to them yesterday and they said everything's fine," Yukiko assured him patiently, setting her hand on her lap and smiling at her laptop screen. "Actually they couldn't talk very long. It seems they're very busy right now."

 

He sighed loudly enough for her to hear it over her speakers. Talking over their computers was as close as they could be given their schedules, and while it wasn't the same as having him in the same room with her, she'd take what she could get. "That's good to hear," he told her with a rueful look. "Sorry for bringing it up again."

 

It _was_ getting a little silly. She knew that her fiancé didn't trust his parents, and she had been worried when he explained the implications of his father becoming even minimally aware of her family's background, but it had been three weeks since he'd called her in the middle of the night and asked her to make sure everything was alright with the Inn and nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

Still, it was nice that he was this concerned. If he wasn't, she'd have to have a talk with him. "Doujima-san won't let anything happen," she told him confidently. "He knows what this all means to you, and he doesn't break promises."

 

"I know," he replied, shifting in his seat.

 

The gesture made the crest on his chain sway, and she smiled when she saw it. "It's okay, I'll forgive you. You're just being you, right?" she commented, barbing him away from his problems.

 

"I'm not sure how I should take that," he shot back with a smile that made his eyes sparkle like the Yasogami River in summer. "I like to think it's a good thing, being me and everything. But if anyone's better at being me than me, you'll let me know, right?"

 

She couldn't resist. She was glad to see that he was in the mood to tease and kid around, so she smiled mischievously and leaned forward with a propped-up hand against her cheek. "Maaaaaaybe.

There are a lot of people here, and I might find someone who pulls it off. If someone manages it that well, I don't know if I could stop myself."

 

"I'd have to come get you then," he told her, voice lowering and eyes narrowing a little. "And chase after you if you tried to run away."

 

"Hmmm..." she hummed playfully, leaning forward. "Would you come after me? How far would you go to get me back?"

 

"Criminals, cousins and classmates aren't the only things I'm good at hunting down, and Japan's not that big." His lips peeled back and showed his teeth, and she could help the flip-flop his smile sent her heart into.

 

He looked gorgeous when he did that, and the idea of him crossing the country to get her back, determined and stopping at nothing, made her girly side quiver into goo. She wanted to play the game even more now. "That doesn't change the fact that the other guy would probably want to keep me for himself," she bandied. "He's like you, after all, so he'd be just as handsome and charming. Would you come after me in that case? Fight to get me back and keep me?"

 

His eyes went from playful to predatory, and his smile was making her heart race even faster. "You should know that I don't like to lose," he almost growled. "At anything. This guy of yours would have his hands full just trying to keep up to me."

 

"Careful," she warned him even as she shivered, "your modesty is showing."

 

"It's okay when your being a brat," he shot back.

 

"I am not," she protested with feigned indignation.

 

"You are. I'd put you over my knee if I were there right now."

 

The dark promise in his voice made it hard for her to keep her hands steady. She leaned forward to needle him more, but her reply was interrupted when he gave a yawn large enough that she could see it around his hand.

 

"Are you looking after yourself?" she asked, not teasing as much now. She knew he was taking a lot on, classes and a new job and shouldering his own finances. She knew he'd run himself into the ground if he thought it would help things, and she'd had to step in several times during the investigation to stop him before he crashed. The worst had been when Nanako-chan had been abducted and he'd fallen apart in her arms.

 

"I'm alright," he assured her, leaning back in his chair. "It's been raining here for a while and I just need some sleep, that's all."

 

She'd heard him say similar things back in Inaba. She still didn't know why the weather mattered when he brought it up. "Are you sure?"

 

"Positive." He was smiling and comfortable again, his voice steady and calming. "Classes are going fine and work's been interesting, not to mention that it's been pretty quiet around here since Yosuke's been working more and Rise's on the road."

 

"How are Rise-chan and Kou-kun?"

 

Souji shrugged. "Rise's Rise, so about the same as usual. She lives here when she's in the area for concerts and work, so we get the paparazzi hanging around outside every now and again, but besides that not much has changed. Other than that, she's been asking me if we've started planning the wedding yet."

 

Yukiko blushed and smiled, thoughts of her own rudimentary plans rising to the surface.

 

"And Kou's getting along with everyone better than I am," he continued dryly, "so don't be surprised if they evict me in the next month or so and give him my room."

 

She perked up, even if she knew it was only wishful thinking. "Will you come live here in that case?"

 

He gave her a flat look. "That was a joke. Please don't tempt me."

 

"I have room here, you know," she began, the ideas coming easily to mind, "and I'm sure you'd fit in with Mei-san and Natsuki-san. There are lots of parks here, so it's not like you'd be bored, and I hear the business program is very well-respected."

 

His stare turned into a sigh. "You're not working for their marketing department, are you?"

 

Yukiko crossed her arms and put on her biggest pout. "I'm serious though."

 

He shook his head, looking like he genuinely wanted to be there with her. "I'd do it in a heartbeat, but you know I can't."

 

"I know, but just think about it," she insisted. "We have a kitchen here, and you could cook as much as you like. Maybe even serve me breakfast in bed."

 

"I'm seeing where this is going," he told her with a smirk.

 

Yukiko ignored him. "Then I could come watch you play basketball as you push the Kyoto team to the finals. You could come swimming with me and Mei-san, and then we could go visit the restaurants, like where you took us before."

 

"Maybe we could sleep in on the weekends," he mentioned, smiling as he began to pick up her fantasy. "Just us with no classes or tests or travel plans."

 

She could almost imagine how her closet would look with his clothes next to hers, both smelling of his cologne. "Breakfast could wait. We wouldn't have to get up right away, and then we could get something later when no one's around, and–" She let out a shriek when she turned a little and saw one of her friends leaning against her doorframe. "Mei-san, when did you get here?!"

 

"About the time you were inviting Seta-kun to move in," was the unrepentant answer even as the slender woman smiled. "You have my support if you want to make it happen, but please, continue. Don't let me stop you."

 

Yukiko felt her blush turn nuclear, covering her mouth and trying not to let an embarrassed whine out. She ended up more embarrassed when it did, and Souji's laughter didn't help things in the least. "Um... we were..."

 

Mei-san held her hand up. "Don't worry about it. Honestly, I mean that. It's nice to listen to a relationship growing instead of crashing, so take your time. I was just wondering if Seta-kun had an hour or so to spare."

 

"That's not a problem," he assured her from the laptop, sounding disgustingly calm.

 

"Did you know she was there?" Yukiko demanded.

 

"Of course not. I can't see your door from here. It's just funny to watch you jump like that."

 

"You're cruel," she huffed. "I'm not talking to you anymore."

 

"Promises promises," he told her, his smirk annoying her even while it made her laugh.

 

"Natsuki was looking for you, too," Mei-san continued as she came in and leaned against the wall, within Souji's field of view this time. "She and Chie are going shopping, apparently."

 

Chie had mentioned it before, and Yukiko promised to come along. She'd wanted to see what the Kyoto stores had to offer, after all. "We're almost done here," she told her friend before turning to the laptop again. "Souji can take things out on you for a while."

 

"More homework?" Souji asked wryly, bypassing Yukiko's jabs. Mei-san had asked about talking to him a week or so ago, and the two seemed to work well together. Yukiko couldn't follow even a quarter of what they talked about, so she just let them talk in what may as well have been Arabic after she was done with him.

 

"I hope it's not a problem," Mei-san told him, carrying her books in and sitting on Yukiko's bed.

 

"It isn't. I just need a minute." He leaned closer to the screen and Yukiko mirrored the gesture, ready to hear something that was only for her. "I love you. You know that, right?"

 

As many times as she'd heard it before, those words still made her heart trip and fall down to her midsection and left her feeling light on her feet. She smiled goofily and nodded. "I love you too."

 

"And keep some time open at Christmas," he told her quietly. "Just for us."

 

The fluttering in her stomach got worse, which only made her happier and giddier. He'd promised her that he'd come for a visit and she was counting down the days, even with two months to go. "Definitely."

 

He chuckled and sat back in his chair. "Have fun. Say 'Hi' to Chie for me, take lots of pictures, and don't spend all your money in one place."

 

"She can show you what they bought when she gets back," Mei-san suggested.

 

"I might," Yukiko told them with a smile, relinquishing her chair after blowing a kiss to Souji. "Take care."

 

Souji touched his cheek, letting her imagine that her kiss had gotten to him that fast. "Always. You too."

 

Mei-san was polite enough to wait until the Amagi heiress was out of the room before asking Souji a barrage of questions, and Yukiko was still smiling when she met Chie and Natsuki-san by the front doors.

 

The more colourful of the pair, wearing knee-length capris and slip-on shoes with a colourful short-sleeved blouse tied around her stomach and revealing a bellybutton stud and some of her tattoo, was about to say something when she turned, but she paused and looked closer at Yukiko before smirking. "And how is he today? As charming as ever and looking forward to coming out, I'm sure."

 

Yukiko was certain she was still red from the scare Mei-san ad given her. Her heart was still running fast, after all. "How did you know we talked?"

 

"It's all over your face, Yukiko," Chie told her with a laugh. "Every time you talk to Souji, you wear that smile."

 

"And you're playing with your necklace," Natsuki-san noted. "And fiddling with your ring. The list is a bit long, actually."

 

Yukiko pulled her right hand away from her necklace and stopped rubbing her ring with her thumb, but didn't lose her smile. She did tilt head a little when she thought about what Natsuki-san said. She hadn't told them Souji was planning on coming to Kyoto at Christmas, so how had she known?

 

"You two are like buds on the same branch," Natsuki-san told her when she asked, touching her padlock pendant and drawing eyes to the several open buttons of her top. "It would be a lot stranger if he hadn't planned that far ahead, and I'm pretty impressed he's handling the long-distance thing this well." The woman chuckled and gave a sly look to Chie. "Your guy will be here too, you know. I'll bet money on it."

 

Chie blushed and laughed nervously. "It's not that big a deal," she murmured.

 

Natsuki-san sighed. "Yes, Chie, it is a big deal. And you need to look your best for when he gets here. That's one of the basic rules of beauty and being with someone."

 

"Are these written rules?" Chie asked. "Or just yours?"

 

"Both. That's the first one. The second is to know how to look good. How do you plan on doing that?"

 

Chie scratched the back of her head a little. "By choosing the right clothes, I guess."

 

"Correct," Natsuki-san told them, raising a finger, "but how do you know which clothes are the right ones?"

 

Yukiko and Chie looked at each other. Yukiko had an idea of where this was going, but she wanted to see what their new friend had in mind. "Why don't you tell us?"

 

"Gladly," the woman told them gleefully, seeming like she'd been waiting for the question. "The first thing you do is find the parts of yourself that you like. The second is finding the clothes that make those parts look even better than they already do. Then the third part is the most important: you have to wear them like you belong in them."

 

Yukiko tilted her head, curious. "Don't we do that anyway?"

 

"You're thinking of just putting something on. Everyone does that, and they never think about what those clothes say about them. If you want to make the clothes work, you have to act like you know how they make you look." She chuckled when they gave her strange looks. "Don't worry about understanding it all at once. We'll get there. And speaking of getting somewhere, let's go."

 

They left the dorm and stopped for a light lunch on the way to the downtown stores. Yukiko was quickly becoming hooked on the local cuisine, different and more flavourful compared to what she was used to in Inaba. She wondered if Souji was familiar with it. He probably was, when she thought about it; he'd been to plenty of places before they'd met. Maybe he'd like some cookbooks for Christmas? And she could even test some of the recipes and surprise him. Chie could even help her if she wanted to try cooking something.

 

"Now," Natsuki-san began after tossing her food wrapper into a trash can, "let's begin. Chie, you're first."

 

The martial artist looked surprised. She might have been trying to fly under the radar the whole time. "Me?"

 

"Yep," their guide told her. "We're shopping for things that will make your boy's jaw hit the ground, so we need to make sure that you look like a winning lottery ticket."

 

Chie looked a little hesitant and a fair bit unconvinced. "Um... Okay. We can give it a try if you think it'll work."

 

"Of course I do," the colourful woman told her without a hint of doubt. "We start with finding the parts you like, remember? So what are those?"

 

"I... never really thought about it. Not in that way."

 

Natsuki-san grinned. "Well, you're going to start to. Right now."

 

Chie looked over herself, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I get a lot of exercise and try to watch what I eat, so I guess I'm pretty healthy."

 

Her response got her a nod of encouragement. "That's a good start. What has this exercise done for you?"

 

"Keeps me in shape."

 

"...And? More specifically?" Natsuki sighed when Chie looked at her quizzically. "Yukiko, what do you like about Chie?"

 

Yukiko was a bit surprised to be asked so directly, but she took a moment to get her thoughts in order. "Well, Chie's loyal and kind and always looks out for her friends. She's helped me a lot over the years and connects well with people, so it wouldn't surprise me if people thought she was generous and easy to get along with. She's also very hard-working and always tries her best."

 

Her friend blushed at her candour. "Uh... thanks, Yukiko."

 

"That's right," Natsuki-san mused, "you two grew up together. Well, if you always give your best, Chie, then you have no reason not to go all out this time, right?"

 

"Wait a sec," Chie told her. "Before I agree to anything, what do you have in mind?"

 

"Things that make your best parts stand out."

 

"You have an idea of what those are?"

 

"I do," Natsuki-san told her a little slowly. "Do you want an honest opinion? Because Yukiko gave a pretty good list, but I can tell you what I think you have in spades, and what I bet your boy thinks about when he's not here."

 

"...Do I want to hear this?"

 

Natsuki-san seemed to think for a few seconds, looking at Chie before smiling. "You work out a lot, and you look great in shorts. That's what you should concentrate on. You also have a pretty flat stomach, don't you?"

 

Chie seemed to be a little more comfortable now. "Yeah. Sometimes I think I'm too skinny."

 

"You're not," Natsuki-san assured her. "If you were lifting weights you'd have a problem, but you're fine as you are. When we get to the store, look for things that show off your legs, hips and stomach. Something that doesn't reach your waist is mandatory, as are good shorts."

 

"How do you know about lifting weights?" Chie asked.

 

Yukiko was wondering the same. Natsuki-san looked as striking as always, but she'd never seen the woman exercise outside of going swimming, and even then she didn't seem to exert herself that much.

 

"My brother's a personal trainer. I used to read his books when he came to visit and I'd hook him up with my friends when he told me stories." Natsuki-san continued to talk about her brother, who was almost six years older than her and lived in Osaka, until they reached the first store. She pulled Chie to where the shorts were and called to Yukiko, "you're not off the hook, you know. I expect to see something that makes Seta's eyes roll out of his head when we're done." After that, she pushed Chie toward the clothing racks and went through whatever had a sale tag like a whirlwind, everything she wanted ending up on a pile that was clearly designated _mine._

Yukiko went to the aisle where the skirts were hanging up, picking a few for casual wear but two that were a little shorter than what she was used to, smiling in approval at how they looked in the mirror. Next came the jeans, and while she hadn't thought of buying them before, she decided to give it a try since she was certain Natsuki-san would insist that she try them on.

 

As odd as it felt to have her legs completely covered, something she usually only felt when she was wearing her kimonos, she couldn't help but like what she saw when she was in the change room. Her regular trips to the swimming pool and pushing past the initial muscle pain had paid off when she slipped into her new attire and admired the close fit. Loose enough that she could bend her knees and move properly, but tight enough that her curves, the ones Souji had paid so much attention to in Inaba, were showcased perfectly. She ran a hand along her hip, feeling how the taut material clung to her, and shivered when she looked in the mirror. For a moment the hand on her was Souji's, and he was squeezing lovingly while she heard his voice in her ears, low shivers and dark silver before she blinked and the moment passed. A few seconds passed before her smile spread and she ran her fingers along the hem of the waist. Yes, these would be perfect. And maybe she'd buy something else to set off the effect, like Natsuki-san said. Something black and a bit lacy.

 

When she left the change room and picked up a few more pairs of the same jeans, she met her partners in crime.

 

"There you are." Natsuki-san smiled and held out a dark red beret. "Try this."

 

Yukiko rarely wore hats outside of winter toques or earmuffs, but after a moment's thought she took her barrette off. Natsuki-san reached out and ruffled Yukiko's hair first, brushing past her protests, then set the beret on her head at an angle and swept her hair to one side.

 

Yukiko took a moment to get her bearings and really see herself in the mirror, but when she did, she liked what she saw. Her hair looked good when it was loose and a bit messy, something she hadn't thought to try before, and the beret made her feel a bit more free and relaxed. She was starting to see what Natsuki-san meant about how clothes could change one's bearing.

 

"Not bad," Chie told her.

 

"I like it," Yukiko confirmed, twisting and turning to see herself from different angles. Maybe a different skirt and top would suit the beret better. Maybe they had them at the store...

 

"Good," Natsuki-san told them, handing Yukiko's barrette back to her. "Now, we need a second opinion. Chie doesn't like my suggestions."

 

"I think they're fine," Chie shot back, "but do you really think I need to show that much skin? These show off a bit too much."

 

Natsuki-san gave her an appraising look, one side of her mouth turned up in a half smile. "You show more in your running shorts, don't you?"

 

"Not _that_ much."

 

Yukiko was going to ask what the problem was, but looked at some of the shirts and shorts that Natsuki-san had brought along. She was right, they didn't seem much shorter than Chie's running shorts, but the material did seem tighter and the colours were flashier. She got the impression that they were as much for show as they were for wear, and it was easy to see why Chie needed convincing.

 

"I get that you're trying to help," the martial artist continued, "but I don't think I need to wear anything that flashy."

 

Their friend tilted her head a little to the side. "Why not? You'd look great in them, so what's the problem?"

 

Chie scratched her cheek with a finger. "Don't you think Kou would see me as... I don't know, trashy if I wore those?"

 

"Trashy? Why? He didn't look especially stuck-up or old-fashioned."

 

"He isn't," Chie assured her. "Not really. But he might think I'm dressing up too much if he sees me wearing these. Or he might not like the colours or something."

 

"I doubt it," was Natsuki's reply. "I really do. Those make you stand out and do great things for your figure, so he's not going to complain. And even if he does think you're dressing up, if he thinks you're doing it for him then he'll be walking on air. Trust me," she continued when she saw Chie's doubtful looks, "guys are like puppies sometimes. Give them some attention and love and they'll bounce around you and beg for walks to the park."

 

"Wouldn't that be like trying to control him?"

 

Natsuki-san sighed with a rueful expression. "Sure, but you're doing it because you like him, right? You want him to enjoy being around you so you dress up to make that happen more easily. Any other girl is going to try the same thing, but she's not going to care as much about him as you do. Flattery, showing off, lying about herself and what she's into, if she likes him she'll do it. And if his family's rich, then that's just the start."

 

Chie and Yukiko shared a look. They hadn't mentioned Kou's background or his family connections, so that example, knowing or not, had just hit close to home.

 

"I'm sorry to put it this way," Natsuki-san continued, "but this is like a fight. You are competing with other people when it comes to him. Anyone who wants to rope him in is going to try, and she won't care if he says he's already taken. A lot of women out there are really heartless bitches when it comes to guys they want. And he might have eyes for you now, but there's no way to tell if it will stay that way."

 

"Natsuki-san," Yukiko began quietly, "we appreciate your help but let's take things slowly for now."

 

Chie hadn't said anything, looking away and flushed, shaking a little and clenching her fists.

 

The older woman's eyes widened a little before she sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I got carried away, and you didn't need to hear it like that."

 

"I get what you mean," Chie told her quietly. "It's just... this is still really weird."

 

"Why?"

 

Yukiko rubbed her friend on the back, ready to help her if she needed it but content to let her speak.

 

"This is all really new for me," Chie began. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it's really happening."

 

Natsuki-san pursued her lips. "Why not? It's alright if it's new, but what's the problem?"

 

"I never thought about Kou much back home," Chie admitted with a choked laugh. " Even though he's been there forever, we never talked much until high school. He was nice and polite, but quiet so I thought he wanted to be part of the wallpaper. He always got embarrassed when me and Yukiko were around, and I thought he had a crush on her."

 

"That wasn't the case," Yukiko replied quietly.

 

"I know that now," Chie told her, "and I feel like an idiot for that sometimes. I could see the same things you're talking about, though. Girls were following him and going to his games to watch him, always talking about him during breaks and setting up betting pools on who was going to try to go out with him next. Nothing ever came of it so I thought he was just focused on playing sports, like the other guys he hung out with. But he said he was interested in me. We've been going out for less than a year and it's all... really new."

 

Natsuki-san reached out to rub Chie's back, huddling in close comfortingly.

 

"He's had his choice of girls," the martial artist murmured, sniffling a little. "Girls who wouldn't being going to a different university than he is or put him through this long-distance stuff. But... he chose me..."

 

Yukiko stepped forward and hugged her friend, one hand in her hair and the other stroking her back like Chie had done for her when they were children. "You've always been a wonderful person, Chie," she told her, loud enough to hear but quiet enough for privacy. "Kou-kun just saw it earlier."

 

"And he's got good taste," Natsuki-san assured her. "Like Yukiko said, you're loyal and caring and dedicated. You're here because you want to build your own career even when it didn't work out for you the first time. That means you're trying to be independent, and that goes for a lot."

 

"Do you think so?"

 

"It means you won't sit back and get fat after popping a couple of kids out and expect him to do everything," their friend told her bluntly. "It means you're going to make it on your own money and sweat instead of his. That's how he's going to see it, and that's pretty rare these days."

 

Chie chuckled and sniffed hard, dabbing at her eyes that were otherwise clear. "I guess so. It's still really weird to think about, but I don't want to give up on this. I guess I'm... No, that's stupid."

 

"Nothing is," Natsuki-san told her firmly, cupping her fingers around Chie's jaw and raising the martial artist's eyes to meet her own. "What's wrong?"

 

It took a moment, and the reply was as quiet as a mouse in a cat den. "I'm afraid he'll move on," she admitted, "like you said, Natsuki-san. I don't want him to get bored or go after someone else, but I have no idea what to do."

 

Natsuki-san shook her head and smiled, hugging Chie hard. When she let the young woman go, she handed her a handkerchief. "The fact that you care enough to be this worried says it all, sweetie. We'll get you there. I promise. I know it's hard but you're not doing this alone, okay?"

 

Yukiko voiced her agreement, rubbing her friend's back.

 

"Okay," Chie replied, sniffling hard to clear her nose. "Thanks. I mean it."

 

"Let's work up to these ones," Natsuki-san suggested, nodding at their pile of clothes. "We'll find some things that are more you and turn things up a little at a time. How does that sound?"

 

"That would work," Chie replied, patting Yukiko on the back and stepping back, sounding more like her usual self.

 

"And you can let him decide what he likes and go from there," the older woman continued. "That would make him want to come out here more than he already does, when you think about it."

 

"That's a good idea. What do you have in mind?" Chie looked genuinely curious, engaging more with their friend this time.

 

Natsuki-san was already smiling. "Well, you have a phone, right? And it has a camera?"

 

Yukiko smiled and retreated from their conversation. This was what Chie needed, the confidence and support from someone classy and new. Sure enough, the two walked over to where the tops were with a parting wave. Finding herself alone, Yukiko steadied her beret and went to the footwear section, looking at the selection of shoes and boots. Some were colours she could never see herself wearing, and others had those ridiculously narrow tips, but a few pairs, particularly in red, caught her eye. Low heels, strappy heels, open-toe shoes, the list went on. She looked at the selection when she heard Natsuki-san and Chie talking about different styles of shirts, but she stopped when she turned and saw a pair of boots on the rack.

 

They were long, maybe knee-high or a bit lower, with flat soles and crisscrossed laces up the front. When she touched the boots, she smiled at the soft, supple feel of the leather, and the laces felt strong when she tugged on them. Intrigued, she pulled them off the shelf and slipped her shoes off, surprised and pleased to feel a thin liner inside the protect the leather. Putting them on felt right, and they fit just so when they reached, like she guessed, a little under her knee. She laced them up tight enough to support her, but loose enough that she could still move her feet. Standing in them sealed the deal for her, leaving her a little taller but feeling just right when she looked in the mirror, her skirt coming down just over the tops of the boots. When she pulled her skirt up a little, the slice of leg that it revealed brought the same smile to her face that the jeans had. It was where someone's eyes would go when they looked at them, and she loved how they felt when she walked around in them. She felt like she had power when she saw how they went with what she was wearing, how well they would go with when she'd bought already.

 

She could already imagine how Souji would react when he saw her in them, and how his eyes would go just where she wanted them to.

 

"Hey, Yukiko! We found something that would suit you," Chie told her when she and Natsuki-san turned the corner, but they both stopped when they saw her boots.

 

"Those are definitely you," Natsuki-san said with a grin.

 

"What else do they have here?" Yukiko asked, beginning to smile wider and itching to look at their selection of swimsuits.

 

\---

 

"Your turn," Yoshiro told him with a grin after the ball slipped through the net.

 

Kou chuckled. They'd been playing up and down the court for half an hour and now they were taking shots at the net, each throw from a step or two further back than the previous. With how much he could read of Yoshiro's personality from their games together and chats when there was a quiet moment, it was easy to see why Yoshiro and Souji got along. They both took their time even when they had the bit in their teeth, always thinking of their shots before they were in place to make them. That said, Yoshiro was more gung-ho and lively, and while that made him easier to read, it also meant that he was a great opponent. It would be a shame that they would have to put the balls away for the season in the next few weeks; they were only out today because it was unusually warm even as autumn rolled in.

 

Kou took two steps back and fired his shot, shaking his head after it went in only after circling the rim first. "That still counts," he told his new friend.

 

"Of course it does," Yoshiro replied with a laugh that said he'd go along with Kou's opinion, but wouldn't forget who was ahead in their game.

 

Kou retrieved the ball and was about to pass it to Yoshiro when his phone gave a familiar chime. He smiled, threw the ball to his new friend, and cocked his head toward the bench where their phones and water bottles were. Instead of getting a remark about being whipped like any of the other guys Kou played with would have made, Yoshiro nodded and joined him while he opened his own phone. It was easy to see the signs of Yoshiro having been with Megumi-san for a long time given the smile on his face when he read something on his phone's screen. It was the same smile Souji wore when he got something from Yukiko-san.

 

Next to him, Kou flipped his phone to see what Chie had sent him, and he wasn't disappointed. It had been a while since she had started sending him selfies, and as unexpected as it had been when she started, he'd been happy to clear out his phone and make room for them. Hearing her justification when he'd called her about them had made his week since just talking to her was a treat, but listening to her trip over herself and sound embarrassed about it was even better. Her first few pictures had been a bit skewed and made it clear that she was nervous, but he was happy to see that the more selfies she sent, the more relaxed she became. Sometimes the photos were just of her in her usual shirt and shorts wearing a smile, but lately she'd been sending pictures of herself in clothes he hadn't seen her in before. Denim jackets that ended at her midriff and close-fitting white shirts, large sweat shirts that exposed one shoulder or the other, and, his personal favourite, her new shorts that highlighted her already-stunning legs and hips. The few times she'd worn her new pairs of shorts, not much longer than the ones she ran in, he was left smiling for days. While he was sure she was getting fashion advice from someone else, he couldn't help but become smitten with what she showed him.

 

It was good seeing her become more comfortable in her own skin, especially since her smiles were getting more and more confident. Sometimes the pictures were even of her laughing, maybe at something Yukiko-san or one of the other ladies she'd mentioned was saying. This time she was wearing her favourite yellow tank top under a dark green blouse with a few buttons undone at the neck, showing her toned figure and an easy stance that made him look forward to Christmas when he could see her in person again. Instead of just smiling, she had a grin on her face with one eye closed in a wink while her right hand was closed into a V sign. The text that followed the picture explained her clear exuberance: _I did it! Miderms are backand B+ was my lowest grade!_

 

Kou smiled. Chie typically took her time to compose her texts and make sure that the spelling was correct, so she must have been over the moon if she was leaving those mistakes where they were. He typed back: _You shouldn't be that surprised. I told you you'd nail it._

 

_You have no idea how freaked out I was! The prof even kept our marks longer Said he had to besure he got them right!_

_I never doubted you'd get there. Congratulations._ For a bystander or another guy, that might have sounded like flattery. But Kou had spent three weeks leading up to the exams on the phone and borrowing Yukiko-san's laptop in order to help Chie study. After grilling her and making sure she knew everything like the inside of her own eyelids, even when she swore that she hated him for pushing her as hard as he did, he knew she'd pull through.

 

_I owe you big time_ , she told him after a few minutes. _I couldn't have done it alone. You're coming out with Souji at Christmas, right?_

_Definitely._

_K, well we'll do something together so I can pay you back._

From what he'd heard, Kyoto was supposed to be a festival of lights and parties around that time of year. The chance to spend it with Chie after she aced her tests, because he was certain she would, was well worth the cost and time of a train trip. The way she felt like she owed him made him frown a little before he grinned. _That sounds great,_ he sent, wondering what shade of red she'd turn. _But let's not treat it like you're paying me back. Instead you can show me around as your boyfriend._

 

There was a long stretch of silence after he sent that, and instead of being concerned, he was more amused by the thought of her turning red and being teased or dropping her phone in surprise. He also didn't mind calling it that since he'd called her his girlfriend when she called him after finishing her exams, and hearing how she stammered through her acceptance of the idea still made him laugh.

 

_That works, right?_

 

The reply came after another few minutes. _Yeah, that'd be that'll work just fine problem._

_Is everything okay?_

_Yeah, sorry, I had to get my phone back. Natsuki-san stole it._

That made Kou laugh enough to make Yoshiro look at him over his own phone. Kou hadn't had the chance to speak to or meet the women Chie and Yukiko-san had connected with, but given how often Chie's comments involved them, it was clear that they were good people.

 

_Goto go though. They're taking us out for dinner to celebrate._

_I see. Enjoy yourself then, and take care._

_You to. Miss you._

That was how she always ended their conversations lately, sometimes whispering it into the phone when she was around the others. It was easy to imagine her blushing when she said it, but that just made him treasure every time he heard it. _Talk to you soon,_ he typed, feeling like it was a lame response after what she'd sent him, but it was the best he could think of.

 

"Everything good with your girl?" Yoshiro asked when Kou stretched his arms out and cracked his neck.

 

"She got her grades back," Kou replied, chuckling. "Did better than she was expecting. She's on cloud nine now."

 

Yoshiro nodded and chuckled, closing his own phone. "Good on her. She's doing pretty well, isn't she? I thought you said she had a hard time with classes and school."

 

"She did," Kou admitted. "She still does, but Chie gets what she wants when she goes after it hard enough." He flipped back through their texts and came to the picture she'd sent him. Her happiness was impossible to miss and Kou sit back to let it sink in while also reflecting on his own high grades. He'd done better than he'd expected with his own exams, especially when he was spending so much of his time helping her. Yoshiro and Megumi-san had stepped in to help him, however, and he had them both to thank for how well he'd done.

 

Kou's smile twitched a little when he looked closer at the picture and saw the familiar silvery marks on Chie's forearm and collar bone. Scars that he'd seen before but never gotten a straight answer on. The resulting sigh must have stood out because Yoshiro looked over at him and asked, "something wrong?"

 

Kou showed him the picture and pointed to the marks on his girlfriend's skin.

 

"That's strange," Yoshiro noted after a few seconds. "They don't look like scrapes. How did she get them?"

 

"I'm not sure," Kou admitted. "I've asked, but she's never told me. She always says she got them when she was practicing her fighting, back before she had a dojo to go to."

 

Yoshiro seemed to pick up on the scepticism in Kou's voice. "You don't believe her? She doesn't seem like she'd lie to you if it was important, and she definitely wouldn't take any shit from a boyfriend who'd hit her or something."

 

Kou snorted out a humourless laugh. The idea of some other guy hurting Chie was enough to both make his blood boil and pity the poor sap who ever took a swing at her. "She wouldn't. Not in a million years. And I don't think she'd lie about it either, but I know there are things she won't talk about and those scars seem to be one of them. I don't know where they came from, but they don't look like the scars she'd get from practicing, or even getting into a fight with someone."

 

"Sounds like you have some ideas of your own," Yoshiro noted after a second. "Feel like sharing?"

 

Kou took a few seconds before he responded, and he wasn't particularly firm when replied, "it's a long story."

 

"I've got time, if you want."

 

Maybe it would help to talk about it. As it was, Kou couldn't keep down the pangs of sympathy he felt whenever he saw Chie's scars, and whenever he'd asked Yosuke or Souji, their evasive answers hadn't helped. Even Rise-san seemed to dance around it when she'd heard him ask those questions, or she'd change the subject the first chance she had. "Do you know much about Souji's time in Inaba?" Kou began after getting his thoughts in order.

 

"Not really," Yoshiro admitted. "He's only really said that he had family back there, and that it's where he met Amagi-san. He always seemed to be working to get back there and that was about it."

 

Kou nodded. "That sounds like him. I can't speak for everything that he went through, but he's got some scars the same as Chie does. Yosuke and Kanji-san, a friend of theirs who is a year behind them, are in the same boat. The other thing is that Souji's uncle is a detective and was involved with the investigation of some murders that happened while he was there."

 

Yoshiro perked up a bit and went pale. "Murders?"

 

"Yeah. Two people died, and it took them a long time to catch the guy."

 

"That's messed up," Yoshiro replied with a shake of the head. "But how does Souji fit in to this? If his uncle's a detective, did he get involved? And does it have anything to do with those bandages he has on his arm?"

 

Kou nodded again. So Yoshiro had noticed their friend's wraps as well. "I think it does. It's a weird story. Some people were kidnapped after the murders, like Yukiko-san and Kanji-san, but they always came back without much of a scratch. It seemed like magic sometimes, like they disappeared out of thin air, then came right back a week or two later, and they always seemed to be closer to Souji and Chie afterward when I don't even know if they knew each other before. Funny thing is, Souji started wearing those wraps he never gave anyone a straight answer as to why he did it. I don't think he had them when he first moved in with his family, but after Yukiko-san came back, that was the first time I saw them."

 

"That's pretty convenient," Yoshiro noted, his eyes narrow in thought.

 

"It is," Kou agreed. "I can't prove it, but I feel like Souji, Chie, Yosuke and the others were involved in the kidnappings and the murder investigation somehow. They all seemed pretty normal until the murders happened, and then they started hanging out together a lot more. That's when I noticed that some of them were taking time off school around the time that the kidnap victims were found, and they looked like they'd been through a serious fight when they came back."

 

"I'm not doubting you," Yoshiro began slowly, "but it's hard to imagine Souji getting fights that regularly. I mean, he beat some guys we went to school with black and blue, but that was in self-defence and it was the only time it happened."

 

"I know the feeling," Kou agreed, "and I'm in the same boat. I have no idea what could make someone like him fight, especially since it wasn't just once or twice. Same with Chie. She loves martial arts, but sometimes it seemed like she'd been through a lot more than a hard day in the practice ring."

 

"What are you going to do about it? Is there any way you can find out what happened?"

 

Kou sighed. It figured. Things were going to start getting personal and he hadn't thought the conversation through before it got here. "I don't think there's much I can do," he admitted. "It happened years ago and she hasn't come to school limping or hurt since the killer was found and arrested. No new scars, no missed classes or sick days, and no kidnappings so it's like she's right back to normal. I asked Doujima-san about it and he said that they were involved in getting Nanako-chan, Souji's little cousin, back when she was kidnapped, but that's all I have to go on. It's hard to imagine what or who would kidnap a little girl that could attack people and leave scars like that, but..."

 

"That's messed up," Yoshiro told him after a moment. "I wish there was something you could follow up on. It's never fun seeing your girl hurt."

 

Kou took the chance to turn the spotlight away from himself for a moment. "You've been there?"

 

"Megumi caught a lot of hell when she was a kid," Yoshiro told him. "She always walked home alone, always aced her tests, and always got picked on. People bullied her because her home life was rough and she always had her nose in a book, but she didn't look like a typical nerd, so she didn't really have anyone to hang out with who could protect her. She'd come to school with bruises and scrapes and no one in any of the classes in our grade would help her. Tore me up when the other kids pushed her around and the teachers didn't say a word."

 

"You helped her out, then," Kou deduced. His friend did seem the type.

 

Yoshiro laughed ruefully, leaning back to look up. "Something like that. I got in the way when some guys were following her and ended up on the pavement after taking a couple of them down. They left her alone and she took me to the hospital, giving me crap the whole time. Things kinda picked up  the next school year and here we are."

 

Kou smiled, admiring and not surprised. "You guys started going out after you got out of the hospital then?"

 

Yoshiro snorted. "Of course not. I was on the sports teams and knew some of the guys who were harassing her, so she thought I was just trying to show off or trick her. The first time I tried to walk her home, she led me to the cops and told them I wouldn't leave her alone. The second time I tried, she tripped me and ran. After that I had to try and find her because she started finding other ways of leaving the school."

 

Kou winced. Megumi-san had a sharp sense of humour, sure, but that was a level of defensiveness he wouldn't have expected from her. Not given how she was now. "How did you get through to her?"

 

It must have been a funny memory because Yoshiro grinned and shook his head, silent for a while before he spoke. "She has a thing for sweet stuff. Particularly chocolate mint roll cakes. I couldn't find her after school so I tracked her down at lunch and offered to share a little bit of mine if she'd talk to me. It was homemade and way better than the stuff you'd get at the store, so she tried stealing it whenever I had some. Things levelled off from there and I convinced her to let me walk her home after that. And then, well, you get the idea."

 

"Luring a girl in with food. That's pretty gutsy. How old were you?"

 

"Sixth year in school, I think," Yoshiro replied. "Sixth or seventh. It's a bit of a blur around that time since it was just... before my..." his face clouded as he looked away.

 

Kou couldn't be sure, but it looked like he'd hit a bad memory. Something painful. "Are you okay?"

 

"So what are you going to do about Chie's scars?" Yoshiro asked. The smile on his face was crooked, pasted on and fake.

 

As much as Kou wanted to touch on the subject, whatever he'd hit that had made Yoshiro look like that to help him since he'd gotten so much support already, it was clear that this wouldn't be the time. Whatever it was, it was a raw, bloody wound, and he had no idea where to begin with something like that. "I'll help her as much as I can," Kou replied. "If she has scars and injuries like that, then maybe some things will start bothering her as things go on, like muscle cramps or joint problems or muscle spasms. I'm taking a few massage classes right now, and if she ends up having problems like that, I can be there to help her."

 

Yoshiro shook his head, a bit of his familiar smile coming back. "You really have it bad for her."

 

"Yeah," Kou admitted with an embarrassed laugh, "I know. It's been like that for a long time, even when she thought she was in Yukiko-san's shadow or always got picked for the sports teams in gym class or before she had those scars. She always stood out when she was talking to the other guys or running around the track field and even back then I couldn't look away." She'd never seemed to notice how striking she was, especially in high school. Kou leaned back and looked to the sky the same way his friend had a few minutes before. "Now she has a dream she wants to achieve even though she failed once and got kicked to the curb. She knew how hard it was going to be, given her grades, how hard it is for her to study and make it stick, but she still went after it. I can't say "no" to that, so I want to help her get there any way I can."

 

"She'll get there," Yoshiro told him quietly. "You both will. You've got something to keep you going and people who'll help you when you need it."

 

Kou looked at his friend, a bit less careless with his words this time. "Thanks. I mean it. You and Megumi-san really helped me with my tests."

 

"Pay it forward, I always say. I might need a favour someday, or someone else might and you can help them. That's my price."

 

"Good words to live by."

 

"Yeah."

 

Yoshiro's eyes showed a mix of calm happiness and a deep-seated pain that Kou couldn't even begin to unravel. "I could go for some food. Do you want ramen or okonomiyaki?"

 

\---

 

"I must admit I'm surprised, Seta-san," Suto-san told her as they wrapped up their meeting. "I thought that our discussion about the company's direction would garner more resistance. You're taking it quite well."

 

"We all have to make changes at times," Izumi replied, straightening her clothes with a smile.

 

"And your sabbatical," Suto-san continued, "has raised many eyebrows. Most of us would be turned away if we asked for that much time off, especially so close to Christmas."

 

"I'll be working abroad rather than here at the office," she corrected him. "I haven't quit, I assure you."

 

"Of course, but it is an oddity."

 

For almost anyone else, it would have been. It still was even for someone with her track record. She'd done some fast talking to a number of people before they'd approved it, but Seta Izumi had never been one to do things conventionally.

 

"Might I ask what prompted this decision?" he inquired when she didn't reply. "I assumed that you would focus your energies here."

 

"There were a number of factors," she told him, mentally going through her list of things that still had to be done before she left. "I felt that my own methods were getting a bit inflexible, and that needed to change."

 

"I respect that." He looked like he meant it, too. "I hear that you will be out of town for the holidays."

 

He was fishing, she knew, but he was still too careful with her to ask directly. Izumi looked at him for a second before giving a shrug. "I have family out west. My brother and my little niece. I haven't seen them for some time so I wanted to take the opportunity while I could. I also have some other family connections that I would like to check in on, if you take my meaning."

 

There was no way he could. After all, what were the odds that he, unmarried and ambitious, had a child he'd neglected for more than a decade?

 

"I understand," he told her with a smile that felt more human than his usual expressions. "I hope that it all goes well."

 

"That is what I hope so as well," she told him as she rose from her seat. "If there's nothing else, I should see to my office."

 

"Of course." Suto-san stood up, came around his desk, and held his hand out. "I look forward to working with you in this new capacity, Seta-san," he told her when she took his hand and shook it. "And if I don't have the chance to say it before you leave, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year."

 

Izumi smiled and returned the sentiment. She'd heard it from several of her co-workers already, but it was quite nice to hear it from people she thought saw her only as a superior and a nameplate. She returned to her office to see Hitomi-chan packing up the last of the paperwork in the office. Most of it she had brought filers and movers in for, but the secretary hadn't allowed them to touch Izumi's more important documents. As a result, everything was organized and stacked neatly on her desk when she walked in.

 

"You didn't have to go that far," Izumi told the woman, knowing what the response would be.

 

Sure as dawn following the night, Hitomi-chan shook her head and looked determined. "I insist, Seta-san. This way you won't have any problems when you get home."

 

Izumi smiled at the young woman's dedication. Finding that in subordinates was a challenge, so Izumi valued it when she found it. "Thank you."

 

"Of course. Your calls have been handled and will be forwarded as soon as they come in. I also took the liberty of making sure that your company accounts and cards still work. If you need any messages sent or taken, or if you have any inquiries, please let me know."

 

"I will," Izumi assured her. When Hitomi-chan reached out to straighten some of the files on the desk, Izumi touched her arm to stop her. "I can handle it from here."

 

"O... of course, ma'am," the woman told her, threading her fingers together and fidgeting.

 

It was clear what was on her mind. Izumi had worked with plenty of associates and department heads over the years, but Hitomi-chan had been with her the longest. Izumi had insisted on taking her on when the young woman, barely out of university and fighting for any bit of attention she could get, impressed her with her sharp mind and knack for organization. Izumi took the woman's hands in her own and leaned forward until their eyes met. "This isn't goodbye," she told her softly. "It might not even last all that long. It could be that I'll be back before you know it."

 

Hitomi-chan nodded after a moment, smiling despite her watering eyes. "Of course."

 

Izumi reached a hand out to touch the woman's flat stomach. "And you will have to share the good news when it comes," she continued.

 

Hitomi-chan's eyes widened as she put her own hands over her stomach. "How did you know? Am I showing?"

 

Izumi wanted to say it was a motherhood thing, that she was more sensitive to the signs on account to having a child of her own. But really it was how Hitomi-chan avoided certain foods she used to love and how she always had crackers and water nearby, for cases of nausea or morning sickness, whereas she never snacked at all before. "I just had a feeling," Izumi told her, determined to mention it to her supervisor to make Hitomi-chan's transition into maternity leave easier. "Congratulations."

 

The tears that had been building in the woman's eyes began to spill over before she had the chance to grab a handkerchief and stop them from ruining her make-up too much. "Thank you, ma'am," she told Izumi in a watery voice. "Thank you for everything."

 

"It's been an honour." Izumi let the moment last for a few more seconds before nodding toward Hitomi-chan's desk. "Let's get back to work. No need to be sloppy just because things are changing, right?"

 

Hitomi-chan laughed and wiped at her eyes once more. "Of course, ma'am. Happy holidays, and safe travels."

 

Izumi made her farewell rounds after she packed her briefcase and satchel. What she couldn't carry she arranged to be delivered and, following her new work habits since she'd seen the picture of Souji and his girlfriend, she left early and caught the end of the rush hour traffic.

 

The ride home was quieter than she expected, so she pulled her phone out and called a number that was still so new that it took her two tries to find it in her contact list.

 

"Hello, this is the Doujima Residence," a chipper voice answered.

 

Izumi marvelled at how much Nanako sounded like Chisato. She and her brother's wife never had much time to talk in depth before Ryo moved them all out to Inaba, and she felt a pang of déjà vu hearing Chisato's daughter speak to her. It hit especially hard since she'd been making all her plans through Ryo and this was the first time she'd had the chance to hear from her little niece. "Is this Doujima Nanako?" Izumi asked, turned toward the bus window to cut down any extra noise.

 

"Um, yep. Who's calling?"

 

"My name is Seta Izumi. I'm your dad's older sister." Only older by a year, she reminded herself. Still not that old.

 

There was a short pause before the girl responded, but there was an undeniable spark of joy in her voice. "Oh, this is Aunt Izumi? You're Big Bro's mom, right?"

 

Souji connecting with Nanako and the idea of what he must have gotten up to with her made Izumi smile. "If your Big Bro is Seta Souji, then yes, that's right. Do you remember me? I saw you when you were still very young."

 

"Umm... Do you have black hair?"

 

"Brown, actually. A little darker than your father's."

 

"Oh! Um, sure, I remember you."

 

Even Izumi could see a fib for the sake of being polite, and knowing the girl's parents like she did, it was impossible to hold it against her. "That's wonderful. Is your father around?"

 

"Yep, he's right here. Nice talking to you, Aunty! Dad, phone!"

 

Izumi shook her head while the receiver was passed over. Not just an aunt, but Aunty from a girl who couldn't have picked her out of a crowd if she'd been paid money to do it. It really had been that long.

 

_That's why you're doing this,_ she told herself. _You're making the change now, so stop beating yourself up about it._

 

"Hey Sis," Ryo greeted her when he got the phone.

 

It was much nicer to hear him when he was in a good mood or at least neutral, compared to the hard irritation she'd heard in his messages. "I hope I caught you at a good time."

 

"As good a time as any. We were just sitting down for dinner, and– What? Sure, Nanako, I'll tell her." Ryo chuckled. "Seems you're already a celebrity here."

 

Izumi felt a the spark of warmth in her heart grow. The girl was a treasure. "I just wanted to make sure that nothing's changed. Like I said, I can find a place to stay if it's an inconvenience."

 

"It's not," Ryo told her sternly. "It's been forever since you came out here so the least we can do is put you up for a while."

 

"Really?!" Izumi heard Nanako shout. "Aunty's coming to visit us for Christmas? Yay!"

 

"See?" Ryo told her with a chuckle a moment later. "It's fine. Nanako'll feel bad if we stuck you in a hotel."

 

"I am planning on bring some of my work with me," she told him. "It's a long-distance arrangement, but I'm still on the company payroll."

 

"We've got it figured out," he replied. "Just let us know what train you're on and we'll come get you."

 

"I might stop at Kyoto before I come to Inaba."

 

"Good. It wouldn't kill you to take a few days off. Like I said, just let us know when you'll be pulling in and we'll be there. Yes Nanako, we both will. I'll make sure you can come along." Ryo gave a sigh. "See what you did? Putting her to bed is going to be impossible now."

 

Her brother's good-natured grousing, paired with her niece's unrestrained enthusiasm in the background, made Izumi shake her head and laugh while the weight on her shoulders started to ease off. Yes, this was the right choice. "I'm looking forward to it. I'll see you then."

 

"Take care," he brother told her.

 

"You too," she returned before hanging up. She looked out the window and noticed that she was almost at her stop. Perfect timing. She collected her things and walked the two blocks to their apartment after she got off the bus, watching her footing on the icy streets and bundling up against the Kofu winter chill.

 

She got home and announced her arrival only to catch her husband as he was carrying some bags from their room. "Where are they sending you?" she asked. It was such a familiar sight that the idea of her husband working over Christmas didn't even phase her anymore, and hadn't in years.

 

"Niigata," he replied as he pulled his coat on and tied his scarf around his neck. "I should be there for a few weeks, maybe a month."

 

"What happened that's this important? They don't usually bring people in over the holidays."

 

"They didn't; I volunteered. There's some restructuring at the top and this could be the chance I've been waiting for. It's too good a chance to pass up."

 

"I'll make sure everything is locked up tomorrow," she promised.

 

She was about to ask him if he'd eaten or if she should order something in, but he gave her a critical stare that stopped her words. "You're still set on visiting your brother then?"

 

"Of course," she told him steadily, not liking his tone. "Why wouldn't I?"

 

"I'm on the way up. You could be too, and I might find a place for you to get into. I can't do that if you're in the middle of nowhere."

 

Izumi sighed. "We've been over this. I told you I was going to visit Ryo and Nanako, and I haven't quit my job or given anything up. I don't imagine I'll be gone for that long, either."

 

"Do you know what the odds are of you getting promoted if you aren't in the office?" he asked her.

 

"Do you know where I was going to end up if I didn't rethink my approach?" she countered. "This way I can reach new people and tap new markets. Staying where I was wouldn't have done me any good, but this is something that hasn't been done before."

 

Yuuma stared at her before he sighed, dropped his bags and came over to hug her. "I know," he told her, "but it's terrible timing for me. This might be a chance that everyone's going to be shooting for, and who knows when it might happen again. I could use you at my side if something opens up."

 

"I will be," she replied. "I'm only a call away. I'll be there if you need me, but I need to do this. If I don't do it now, then I feel like I never will, and I feel like it's something I don't want to miss out on."

 

"Your brother will still be there," Yuuma noted. "He's not going to change unless he gets remarried."

 

"But Nanako might not be," she told him gently, the thought of the sunny girl assuring her of her choice. "She's growing up. Neither will Souji, for that matter. Stepping back for a while won't kill me, and maybe I'll learn something about the girl he's seeing when I'm there."

 

Even that wasn't enough to assuage her husband, and that surprised Izumi. She hadn't seen him this determined to advance in years.

 

After a long stare where she could see his commitment to twenty years of marriage warring with his meteoric ambition, he smiled in a way that didn't reach his eyes, quickly kissed her on the cheek, and told her, "I have to be going. Call me when you get there." He picked up the rest of his bags, nodded in passing, and was out the door less than two minutes later.

 

Izumi looked at the door, stepping over to close it. While she was sure he'd call around Christmas or New Years when he had the chance, it stung a little that he hadn't mentioned the holidays before he left.

 

She shrugged and went to their room to change out of her work clothes. It wasn't the first time. He probably had a lot on his mind. She ordered dinner, caught up on the stock market changes, and spent the night affirming arrangements and thinking of all the ways she could make her situation fit her upcoming change in circumstances. It had been what she and Junko had been best at in university, and while she hadn't talked to her old friend since the house visit, she was determined to not let time cost her the edge that had gotten her this far.

 

The next morning was almost dull in its familiarity. She told the apartment landlord about her and Yuuma's changing business situation, arranged to cover the rent through deposit, and ensured that her business files were packed up and on their way to Inaba. The she found a coffee shop and filled her travel mug with the strongest dark roast she could find before heading to the Tōkaidō Shinkansen station.

 

The bullet train system was a marvel of Japanese engineering. A new train left the platform every twelve minutes and if she'd wanted to, she could have gone as far north as Shin-Aomori or as far west as Kagoshima on the far end of Kyushu, and the costs for the comfortable seats and steady ride were very agreeable.  It was very likely that Yuuma had taken the Jōetsu line up to Niigata the day before, actually, and he would have been there before he'd had the time to get comfortable in his seat. Izumi even decided, when she was bundled up to the ears and paying for her ticket, to splurge a little and pay for a seat in the first-class car, which meant she'd have her pick of bento or warm meals as well as everything she needed, from plug-ins to wifi, to work on her laptop.

 

Izumi let the platform employees handle her luggage, remembering which compartment they'd put it in, just in case, and she made her way to her car and sat back while the rest of the passengers, mostly families travelling for the holidays but some commuters for work, filled the car. She tuned the noise out and before long they were underway, her fingers tapping on the keys almost as fast as the rails passed beneath her. She was so into her work, actually, that when she looked at the clock on her laptop, she swore sharply in English so as to not bother the passengers around her once she did the math in her head. She'd meant to call Souji when she was close to Fujisawa so that she could wish him well for the holidays and tell him that she was visiting Inaba, but she was already at Toyohashi and halfway to Kyoto. There was a silly little thought in the back of her head that told her Souji might welcome a visit from her, maybe meet her at the train station for a coffee or two if she caught him early enough. It was such a ludicrous idea that she'd forgotten about it until she looked at his name in her contact list again.

 

No, he probably wouldn't want to see her. Not when he had friends to spend the holidays with, and especially not if he was going to meet up with his girlfriend. But that didn't mean she couldn't call and leave a message to wish him well.

 

She hit "send" without hesitation this time and leaned back in her seat, looking out the window as she listened to the ring tones and sped toward Kyoto.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

 

"Pretty girl," Hasagawa commented from the edge of the desk, looking at the picture frame on Souji's desk. The picture being displayed was of Yukiko in her kimono during her graduation, pride and happiness lighting up her face while she posed for the camera with Chie, Yosuke and Nanako with her.

 

Souji grabbed and filed papers and reports as fast as he could, feeling like an octopus as he prepared to tackle the next project in his inbox. "Which one do you mean?" he asked slyly as he looked up with a quick smile, already knowing the answer.

 

Hasagawa gave him a sidelong look while shaking his head. "Please. You know I mean Amagi-san."

 

The picture flickered to one of her selfies, showing her smiling into the camera with her other hand up and her fingers in a V. She'd sent it to him when she found out that she'd scored one point lower than him on her midterms, which still put her above the 90% mark.

 

"Yeah," Souji replied knowingly, "I guess I should. You say it every time you stop by and see her picture."

 

"Because it's true," Hasagawa insisted. Only a few years older than Souji himself, he had become a fast friend since Souji started with Minoru-san's company. He'd stopped by when Souji was being shown around the office and getting his bearings, and with only a few questions seemed to like what the younger man was made of. Hasagawa had been a steady figure ever since, and he was one of the first people Souji went to when he had any questions. "She doesn't have any sisters or cousins who aren't married already, does she?"

 

The picture changed to the next one of the two dozen Souji had uploaded to the frame's hard drive. This one was of her in her summer dress, playing with Nanako and Chie's dog down by the river. The digital frame had been a gift from Etsuko-san when he'd started, and she'd insisted that he put pictures of his "lovely fiancée" on it. He'd acquiesced without too much of a fight, but now his relationship status was common knowledge around the office to anyone who cared. And, unexpectedly, more than one person seemed to. "She's an only child," Souji told him, "and I don't think she has any extended family. She never mentioned them, anyway."

 

Hasagawa sighed. "Of course. Still, if she has any cute friends, keep me in mind."

 

Souji felt for the guy. He was friendly and he worked hard, seeming determined to make things work on his own, but he was also single due to the hours he put in at work. From what Souji had heard by the water cooler, Hasagawa was also working through his last year of a business degree, and was getting fed up with the girls his older sister was setting him up with. "Yours will be the first number I give out," Souji replied with full sincerity. "I promise."

 

"I'd appreciate it." Hasagawa smoothed the front of his blue pinstripe suit jacket and brushed his short, modern-cut hair back. The look suited his narrow, stylish glasses and his trim frame. It was clear that even at his age, he was a strong presence in the meeting room. "Let's keep this between the two of us though, alright? Anymore and I'd start sounding pathetic."

 

"You already do," a deeper voice answered from behind. "But you know that it makes you pathetic, so it's all right."

 

Hasagawa chuckled, turning to face his tormentor while Souji stopped his fast-fire filing. The speaker was someone who had noticed Souji's arrival the moment it happened and introduced himself almost before Souji's nameplate was made. Mizushima stepped up next to Hasagawa and the study of comparisons and contrasts was, as always, interesting. Mizushima was tall, broad, dressed in a distinct maroon suit, and looked like he belonged to the local yakuza with his always-stern expression and shoulder-length hair. The limp he walked with from blowing his knee out and tearing his Achilles tendon in the MMA ring only added to the image. Seeing him next to the lean, clean and classy Hasagawa, who was shorter by a good four inches, made it seem like the shorter man would be easily pushed over, and yet Souji felt like the results of such an attempt would be quite different from that.

 

"To what do we owe the honour, Mizushima-san?" Souji asked, turning to properly face him. The man might have been nosy, blunt, and almost coarse, but his skills with day trading and investments were above anything Souji had seen before. Mizushima's rationale, when he bothered to give it, rarely made sense in the moment, but his decisions always paid off and he had quite a reputation in the office. Souji had gotten a look at some of the files the man was handling, and it boggled his mind that some of their clients had that many zeroes to their name. He'd been taking notes ever since he'd seen the man in action, and he was looking forward to learning everything he could.

 

"I heard you're heading out for the holidays," Mizushima began, hands in his pockets while he pinched his teeth together like he was itching for a smoke. It made him seem even bigger and broader than he already was. "Off to see your girl?"

 

"That's the idea," Souji replied, mentally categorizing where his remaining bits of work needed to go. It wouldn't do to make a mistake and have to fix it the moment he got back. "A few of us are heading west for the holidays."

 

"Good," Mizushima said bluntly. "Treat a girl like that right, or she'll dump your ass and you'll deserve it. You gotta work hard to keep her."

 

Souji had a hard time imagining how that would look in practice, but he'd be sure to talk to Yukiko about it when he saw her. She'd get a kick out of someone even more thug-like than Kanji sticking up for her honour. "That's my intention, and I'll be sure to tell her you said that."

 

Mizushima grunted. "Yeah, make sure you do. If you skimp out on her, you're just disrespecting her. Girl like that deserves more, and you and me'd have to talk about it then."

 

"I think Amagi-san doesn't have too much to worry about there," Hasagawa noted with a smile as the picture switched again. This one was of her in her usual pink kimono, but she stood for the camera at the desk of the Inn and looked stunning with her eyes closed and joy suffusing her entire being. He'd asked her to pose for the picture as a memory of their first date, and she looked radiant in a way that had nothing to do with the lighting.

 

Souji had been rather surprised that his coworkers and new friends had taken such a shine to his relationship with Yukiko. That they liked her was no surprise since most of the people he knew had nothing bad to say about her. Mizushima, however, had bonded to her immediately, telling Souji, in as many words, that any indication of cheating or inattention toward her would be rewarded with a swift, hard ass-kicking. It had chafed Souji to be so quickly thought of as someone who would cheat on his girlfriend, but Hasagawa explained the situation to him a few days later. It seemed that Mizushima came from a large family, and because he was the oldest, he looked after all his siblings like a hawk would watch its hatchlings. In particular on that list was the oldest of his sisters, who was seeing a guy for whom Mizushima had nothing good to say. "Lazy bum," "worthless idiot," and "money-sucking leech," were some of the kinder descriptions the rough man had for his sister's boyfriend. Souji surmised that his new senpai had a special disgust for any guy who couldn't carry his own weight, be it in life or in love, and so Souji was reminded to always treat Yukiko properly when the topic came up. Which was quite regularly.

 

Hasagawa's interest in her was quite a bit easier to figure out. The lean fellow had admitted that his relationships suffered because he was so focused on work, and he felt that only a woman of unearthly patience and understanding and grace, a true _yamato nadeshiko_ , would be able to handle him and his hectic schedule. He evidently thought that Yukiko fit the bill, and thus had held her in very high regard since the day he saw a picture of her in her kimono.

 

It was an odd way to make friends, but Souji found that he didn't mind too much once he got used to it.

 

"She doesn't," Souji assured them. "We have a lot planned for when I see her. We might not even get around to all of it on this trip."

 

"Good," Mizushima grunted, stepping back. "Get back to it then, and don't keep her waiting. Treat her good, and I'll see you when you get back."

 

"Enjoy your holidays, senpai," Souji replied, smiling at the way the harsh man's eyes opened in surprise.

 

"I told you to quit callin' me that," Mizushima groused, but his lips turned up despite his attempt at a scowl. "Don't think I'll go easy on you just because it's Christmas. Things are going to get even busier around here, so be ready for that when you get back."

 

Souji inclined his head respectfully. "I understand."

 

"Right. Good." Mizushima turned and walked away, his limp a bit less noticeable this time.

 

"I hope he doesn't bother you," Hasagawa mentioned after the man turned the corner. "He means well, but he's not one for social graces. I don't think he ever has been."

 

"I've handled worse," Souji replied with a chuckle. He knew most of Mizushima's story. Normally he wasn't one for gossip, but the information had been there just for the asking. Mizushima's family, large even by Western standards, let alone Japanese, fell on hard times when his father was demoted and his mother came down with pneumonia. He'd poured everything he had into being an MMA fighter, taking to the ring to make money and support his family. A bad throw ended everything when it tore up his leg, and the medical bills made things even worse. He took to day trading out of desperation and honed his skills at it until he'd made enough money to help his parents and siblings and earned a good enough reputation that Minoru-san had personally recruited him. "His heart's in the right place, and I can't fault him for that."

 

"I'm glad you see it that way," Hasagawa told him, leaning back against the desk with a smile. "A lot of people don't."

 

"I've known some colourful people over the years," Souji commented with a smile. "More than my share, I think. He's looking out for Yukiko almost as much as her own father does, and that's... well, I think you can imagine."

 

Hasagawa chuckled and shook his head, backing away. "I think I can, but you'll have to tell me about that sometime. It sounds like an interesting story." He checked his watch before looking at Souji. "I should get to work as well. I still have plenty to do. You're leaving soon, aren't you?"

 

Souji pointed at the remaining paper piles. "Once these are done."

 

"Then enjoy the holidays, and... well, it might sound strange, but convey my regards to Amagi-san."

 

"I will." Souji's eyes narrowed a little, and his tone turned playfully scolding. "Make sure you take it easy. No coming in on the weekend to answer calls and move portfolios."

 

Hasagawa outright laughed this time. "All right, sensei, I promise not to do that too often. Best wishes, and I'll see you when you get back."

 

"You too." Souji turned back to his work as his friend left, filing everything and addressing whatever he could as fast as he could. He still had to get home and grab his bags before he, Yosuke, Kou and Rise went to the train station to catch their ride to Kyoto. There was still had a lot to do, and he only had...

 

Souji checked the clock on his desk. Yes, he only had two hours and thirty-four minutes to make it all work. He kept his head down and only looked up when someone addressed him directly, stamping papers and quickly putting them into the right inboxes until he was finished. He made sure his picture frame was off, not wanting to drain the battery over the weekend, and then he punched out and grabbed his stuff, trying to avoid another packet of forms ending up on his desk. He was out of his chair, down the hall, and halfway to the main doors when he stopped to bow politely to his direct supervisor, Tsukuda.

 

"Everything's up to date, Seta-kun?" the man asked.

 

Of all the people Souji had met since he'd started working here, Tsukuda gave the most mixed signals and was the hardest to figure out. He was, from all accounts, only in his thirties, but he also had two children, a son and daughter, who he was trying his hardest to see as often as he could after a rather messy divorce that had happened recently enough to still be gossip-worthy. There were plenty of rumours about the man. Some said that he was paying for a new apartment in the aftermath of the settlement, and that his ex was being difficult when it came to visitation rights. Others said that his mistress had conspired with his ex to help her get custody of the children, or that she was a spiteful lover who'd set out to sabotage him in the first place. The rumours were as varied as they were plentiful, but it was hard to tell how close any of them were to the mark when one spoke to the man. There were times when Souji felt like Tsukuda was harbouring a lot of bitterness, but instead of showing any such emotions, Tsukuda would smile and brush off Souji's concerns before correcting any mistakes he'd made. There was no ego in him when he spoke, no sense of authority outside of his vast experience. Had the divorce really been that bad? If it was, he was taking the situation well. What were the circumstances? Had he been the one in the wrong? Given how amiable he was, it was hard to believe. Was that just a facade? Had his wife seen the real him? Was he older than he seemed but didn't like bossing people around? Was he younger than he seemed and just taking his marital breakdown on the chin? With so many questions having so few answers, Souji stopped trying to guess what the man would say or do next and just went with the flow. "It is, sir. Everything's caught up and handled on my end."

 

"I'm glad to hear that," Tsukuda told him with a soft smile. "You're on your way, then?"

 

That was another thing about Tsukuda: he spoke carefully, enunciating his words clearly and with enough volume to be heard, but he took his time with every syllable. It made him sound older, but that went against the relatively young look to his face, not to mention the times when he overheard a conversation and seemed to understand what Hasagawa and Kizushima were talking about, no matter what kind of Kanto slang they were using.

 

Souji smiled to himself. And people thought _he_ was hard to get a read on. Tsukuda had him beat in almost every way. "That's right, sir," he confirmed. "I have a train to catch soon since I'm visiting friends for the holidays."

 

Tsukuda took half a step to the side, but didn't break eye contact. "Then I won't keep you for too long, but if you don't mind, I'd like a moment of your time."

 

"Of course, sir. What can I do for you?"

 

"I assume you're going to visit the young lady whose pictures are on your desk. If that's the case, I have some advice you might find useful."

 

Souji blinked. This was new. Tsukuda had been one of the few people in the office to not mention Yukiko in some capacity or another, so Souji assumed that he simply hadn't been interested in a subordinate's relationship status. Evidently that wasn't the case. "What sort of advice do you mean, sir?"

 

Tsukuda chuckled and leaned back against the wall. "It's not really my place, and I hope that I don't offend you, but it will make me feel better if I can say it. You're young and you seem to have a very good thing with Amagi-san, and that's quite rare in this day and age. I'd like to offer my congratulations in making it work while you're living apart. That can't be easy."

 

It wasn't. It really wasn't, but that was why Souji was looking forward to seeing her in a few hours. If only he could just get out the door. "We're managing, sir," Souji hedged, still not sure where the conversation was going but not about to push past his superior. "But thank you. I'm glad you approve."

 

This time Tsukuda laughed. "I doubt you need my approval, but for what it's worth you do seem to be doing things right. But you're in a hurry, so here is my advice, if you're open to it: always pay attention to the small details. Women tend to operate on the level of nuance and subtleties, so while you might think that the little things don't matter for much, I can assure you that they do. And even if you think that you are paying attention, make an extra effort. Making such things work is in the details, you see. Details, Seta-kun, and remember that nothing about your relationship is small or trivial."

 

Souji hadn't expected the advice and wasn't sure how to take it since Tsukuda was his supervisor, but he bowed graciously nonetheless. "I'll remember that, sir. Thank you."

 

Tsukuda nodded. "You don't need to learn it the hard way like I did." There was no rancour in his voice, not even a grimace or a wince to his face. Just calm acceptance. "Don't let me keep you. Enjoy your holidays and make the most of them."

 

"I will, sir, and I wish you the same."

 

"You're too kind."

 

Tsukuda passed him in the hall, and Souji started for the front door. Details and the little things, eh? He'd tried to make sure that he was following that advice already, but he'd keep it in mind when he had a minute and wasn't at work. It was time to get things moving, and he was already pushing as it–

 

"Ah, Seta-kun! I need to talk to you before you leave!"

 

Souji stopped in place and bit his tongue. He was _almost_ there, but he recognized the voice and couldn't just pretend that he hadn't heard her. "Of course, Etsuko-san," he replied as he turned, folding his hands together and trying not to show his impatience. "How can I help you?"

 

"I heard you're going to visit your fiancée for the holidays," the pregnant woman began as she waddled forward, a small bag in her hand.

 

Souji groaned on the inside. He enjoyed his job and liked the people he worked with, but he wasn't used to being the center of attention like this. Even if Yukiko was beautiful – in his own unbiased opinion – and even if he was doing well at the job in a short period of time, he wasn't expecting everyone to take such an interest in his and his personal affairs. Were the people here really that desperate for fresh gossip that they were focusing on him? Or had saving Akane-chan elevated him to celebrity status? It made sense where Etsuko-san was concerned, of course, but the matter of timing was becoming a problem. "That's the idea, yes. Some friends and I are leaving today, actually."

 

"Then please accept this as a Christmas present, for both you and her." She handed him the bag, a smile on her face.

 

Souji hesitated before slowly taking the offering. "I appreciate it, Etsuko-san, but... won't this cause problems with the other employees? I'm still quite new here, after all, and this might seem like favouritism." He really didn't need to be railroaded or sandbagged by his co-workers just because they were feeling jealous and spiteful.

 

"It isn't," she assured him, stroking her stomach. "We make sure that all of our employees get something special for the holidays. Minoru set those rules in place when he started the business. You're getting yours a bit early, that's all."

 

"Oh. I see." Hopefully that was enough to keep his position safe when he got back.

 

"Also, Akane told me to give it to you. She wanted the two of you to have your gifts before you left, and she was very insistent." Etsuko laughed behind her hand. "She wanted me to tell you to not look until Christmas, and that you and Amagi-san had to open them together. It's a big deal for her, and I hope you understand."

 

Akane was sounding more and more like Nanako every day. Souji wondered how any of them would survive if the two girls happened to meet. He opened his work bag and put the gifts inside without looking at them, raising his left hand as he looked at the woman. "I promise, we'll do what she says."

 

Etsuko-san smiled. "Thank you. That will mean a lot to her." She came a little closer and took one of his hands in both of hers. "Make the most of your time together, Seta-kun. Make sure you make plenty of good memories together. You're both young, so you should enjoy yourselves when you can."

 

Souji blinked against the unexpected stinging in his eyes. Even with everyone else stopping by to talk to him today, he hadn't expected such a heartfelt benediction, especially after so little time at the business. But it felt for a moment like he was being instructed to not worry about anything and just have fun, like Etsuko-san was his big sister or something. "We will," he promised after clearing his throat. "And thank you for everything. I've met some wonderful people here, and I'll be looking forward to starting up again after Christmas."

 

"We can trade stories," Etsuko-san suggested, a touch of mischief in her eyes. "I expect you'll have a few by the time you get back."

 

Yes, definitely like an older sister. The feeling was a good one, which was surprising for Souji because he'd never felt the desire for siblings before.

 

"Go," she commanded, releasing his hand. "You don't want to miss your train. Merry Christmas and happy holidays, Seta-kun."

 

Souji bowed, not sure if he could reciprocate the sentiment in any meaningful way. "Thank you. You as well. Give my regards to Akane-chan and Minoru-san." With that, before he ran into anyone else, Souji was out the door and hailing a cab. He had somewhere to be.

 

\---

 

"Dude, did you break the speed limit getting here?" Yosuke asked him when he opened the door to their flat. "Are the cops going to be knocking on the door?"

 

Souji shrugged. "Traffic was better than usual," he replied. It was mostly true. Money as an incentive and using back roads helped a lot at this time of year. "Let me change and we'll get out of here."

 

"Rise's still getting her things together," Yosuke informed him, his bags already at his feet and his winter clothes on. It made sense given how sharp the chill was these days, not to mention how Kyoto was going through record temperatures. "She said it wouldn't be too long, but she's on the phone with someone."

 

"How much longer is she going to be?" Souji asked, biting his tongue to keep things civil. He understood that people needed to pack and be sure they had their things, sure, but he wanted to go _now_.

 

Apparently his eagerness was showing on his face, because Yosuke held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Got it, got it, I'll ask her. Take a breath and go pack and get your stuff."

 

Souji headed to his room before Yosuke was done speaking. He wasn't sure if he popped any buttons off his shirt as he stripped for a quick shower, but he wouldn't have cared if he had. He was halfway done before the water was hot, and tripped on the edge of the shower basin twice in his efforts to dry himself off and brush his hair at the same time. Much as he wanted to kick something for the distractions and hang-ups, he was too set on leaving to let it bother him too much. He was infinitely glad that, in line with his past experiences of leaving places on short notice and moving from apartment to apartment, he'd packed his bags the night before. He was in his room only long enough to throw on clean clothes and grab what he needed, and once he did that he was back to the front door where Kou was waiting with his things.

 

"Ready?" his friend asked, brushing his blue hair back and smiling.

 

Souji checked his watch and restrained himself from tearing out the door. The clock was ticking, and neither Rise nor Yosuke were there. "Whenever they are," Souji replied, looking down the hall toward the starlet's room. "Do you know what's taking her so long? I'd rather not miss our ride." The plans had been made in advance and the four of them would be going to the Shin-Yokohama station to get on the Tōkaidō Shinkansen for the trip to Kyoto. It would be late when they arrived, but Yukiko and Chie were all right with it and promised to meet them when they pulled in to the heart of Kansai. Souji wanted to get there with time to spare since there was no way that the station and the train wouldn't be packed to the rafters, even with their tickets pre-ordered. Taking the bullet train wasn't cheap, but it was better than spending a full day in transit.

 

"We'll make it," Kou promised. "Rise-san knows how big of a deal this is for you and Yukiko-san."

 

"Do you know if she's even packed? She's had most of the day to–"

 

"Sorry for the wait!" Rise shouted from her room, scampering out to meet them with some bags flying behind her and her coats barely hanging on as she scrambled to get her arms in the sleeves. "Inoue got me on a conference call and it took _forever_! We can go whenever you're ready."

 

Yosuke followed her out, carrying a few bags that were far too girly to be his, and Megumi and Yoshiro trailed along behind him to see them off. "Do you have everything you need?" the lovely brunette asked. "Don't forget your tickets."

 

The four went around and showed their train tickets, putting them somewhere safe until they got to the terminal. "That's everything," Souji concluded, grabbing his things and trying to make his farewells brief. "See you guys later."

 

"It's going to be pretty quiet here without everyone," Yoshiro noted with a wry smile. "I think I could get used to it."

 

"We'll be back before you know it," Souji promised. "Don't annoy the neighbours too much."

 

"Don't worry," Megumi replied archly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. "We'll keep the place from burning down until you get back."

 

Souji noticed the sultry look she was giving her boyfriend. There was no doubt that the two would find ways to fill the time.

 

"Give our regards to Satonaka and Amagi," Yoshiro told them. They'd already exchanged their gifts, and the pair had pitched in to get something for the two girls. Souji and Kou had protested, knowing how tight money was for everyone, but they'd insisted. Souji made a note to get something for them while in Kyoto. It was only fair, and with a job he could afford to splurge a bit more where his friends were involved.

 

He stepped out into the hallway while Rise said her farewells, and she looked both excited and sad when she joined them. "Shall we?" Souji asked, glad to finally be underway.

 

They got to the nearest train terminal and were promptly stuffed into the car by the platform attendants, almost suffocating from the pressure with hundreds of other people starting their Christmas vacation. Conversation was barely possible with the noise and the press of people around them. Souji was particularly glad that he'd been able to stuff his things into two bags since it was all he could do to keep hold of them. He doubted that being squeezed like sardines was pleasant for the others, particularly Rise since she had the most bags of all of them. Still, they were lucky to be near the doors, and they were part of the first wave off the train when they pulled in to the Shinkansen station. The crowds were still horrendous, and the group had to text each other more than once after being separated by the stream of people, but they'd managed to make it to their ride amidst the families and children and foreigners. Their tickets were taken in quick efficiency and they were directed onto the train and out of the crowds in impressively short order.

 

Compared to the standing-room-only train they'd taken to get to the station, the inside of the Shinkansen was positively spacious. Comfortable seats, soft headrests, and aisles wide enough that they could move around once they were underway. Their seats had been arranged next to each other, with Yosuke and Rise taking one pair of seats while Souji and Kou sat behind them. Once his bags were put away, Souji let out the long breath he'd been holding since they'd left the apartment. Then he pulled his phone out, sending _"On the train now, should be there on schedule. Love you, and see you soon,"_ to Yukiko.

 

"Welcome, everyone, to your one-stop trip across the country," Kou announced in a surprisingly good pantomime of the train conductor.

 

"Pretty much. This line only stops in Nagoya between here and Kyoto," Souji replied as he watched Yosuke help Rise put her bags into the overhead compartment. Even as they struggled with her stuff, they seemed to be talking about music and idols. "There are three trains that go from Tokyo to Osaka, and the others either hit every stop along the way, or just half of them." Thanks to that, they'd be in Kyoto in about two and a half hours instead of four.

 

Whatever Kou was going to say was lost when Souji yawned hard enough to creak his jaw. "Sorry, what was that?" he asked blearily, shaking his head to try and clear it. It seemed the week of fatigue he'd been fighting off was starting to catch up to him now that he didn't have the concern over his travel plans to keep him going. Even with his shower and the rush to get to the station, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open now that he was sitting down.

 

"It's nothing," Kou said slowly, leaning forward to look him in the eye. "You need to get some rest. You've been pushing yourself again."

 

Souji leaned back a bit from the doctor's tone in his friend's voice. "No comment," he replied with a rueful smile after a few seconds.

 

Kou chuckled. "I'm not going to make a big deal over it, but get some sleep. It's not like there's going to be much to see between here and Kyoto, and you even have the window seat."

 

Souji chuckled. Trust one of his friends, even someone not on the investigation team, to give him crap for pushing himself too hard. "I think I'll do that." He leaned back against the headrest, and he was halfway through thinking of how nice it was to not have to worry about school and work when he fell asleep.

 

He was jostled a little when they stopped at Nagoya, but Rise, in Kou's seat for some reason, sushed him and murmured, "It's all right, Senpai. I'll wake you up when we get there. Go back to sleep." He shifted a little in his chair and did as she said.

 

The train decelerating in the Kyoto platform brought him out of his nap, and the first thing he did was massage his neck and blink blearily as he looked out the window. Artificial light from the train station greeted them while seasonal decorations hung on the terminal rafters, the distinct Kansai flavour telling him that they were at their destination. Seasonal songs from Osaka played over the station radio, and the hung lanterns were particularly colourful and seemed to dance on the cold breeze.

 

"Here we are," Yosuke noted from the seat beside him.

 

"Why'd you guys change seats?" Souji asked after a refreshing yawn. It hadn't been much, but that little bit of rest had been enough to make everything clearer and sharper than when he'd been in Fujisawa.

 

"Ichijou could only study so much before he got bored," Yosuke mentioned with a chuckle. "And Rise thought it would mess with your head if we switched while you were sleeping."

 

Yosuke's familiar smile and wink gave a measure of credence to his words, and Souji glanced at the girl as she collected her bags.

 

"I'll get back at her for you later," Yosuke continued before he stood up and got his things. "Ready for your vacation?"

 

Souji nodded and got up to stretch. Was he ever. Yukiko was here and the familiar push to get moving and find her was back.

 

Getting off the train was simple enough, though there was an even larger crowd at the station than there had been in Yokohama. This time they travelled as a group so they wouldn't get separated. Even with so many people around, the damp chill was heavy in the air and settled on them like a cold blanket. Going against the crowds, they worked their way out of the station to where there was more space to move and breathe.

 

They all sighed in relief when they got out onto the street. The crowds were ridiculous and the people, in spite of being polite, only had so much room to give. Not only were there fewer people outside the train station, but the one group they were looking for stood out like a beacon in the night.

 

Souji inhaled sharply. There she was. Red coat and dark blue jeans and black boots, red ear muffs, mitts and scarf in the cold. Souji shouldered his bags enough to have his hands and arms free as Yukiko rushed up to him on the salted sidewalk before she leaped up to embrace him. Because it was the season, and because having her in his arms made everything in the world feel right, he picked her up off her feet and turned back and forth, inspiring her to kick her legs and giggle like a little girl. He didn't want to let her go, and didn't particularly care if people around them had a problem with it. Or maybe they wouldn't since Kansai people were more easygoing than their Kanto counterparts.

 

Next to him, Chie came up to Kou to give him a smile and a kiss on the cheek, and she was promptly enveloped in a hug similar to the one Yukiko was getting. The martial artist turned red, but didn't seem to mind too much.

 

"You made it," Yukiko whispered when he stopped moving but held her up.

 

"Of course. I wouldn't have missed it for anything," he whispered back as he set her down, still holding her close.

 

"I kept checking my phone to make sure your train would get in on time," Yukiko commented, brushing his hair back. "I even sent you a message in case something went wrong, but I didn't hear back."

 

Souji checked his phone and bit his tongue. She had replied to his text about half an hour after he'd fallen asleep and he hadn't noticed until now. "Sorry about that," he told her. "I dozed off a little during the ride."

 

"You've been working hard, so I'll forgive you this time," she murmured. "But you'll have to buy me dinner if it happens again."

 

He'd do that anyway, but nodded in response. "Deal." He stepped back and let her go so that Rise, who'd been patiently rocking from foot to foot nearby, could rush up and hug her. From behind his fiancée came two slender figures, one whom he recognized immediately. Kisaragi and the woman he assumed was Amemiya. The latter reminded him of Rise, though she was dressed perhaps even more stylishly. It was an odd feeling, meeting them in person when he'd seen and heard Kisaragi across Yukiko's computer screen and only heard of Amemiya.

 

"It's nice to meet the man in person after hearing about him for so long," Kisaragi mentioned as she approached, flicking a cigarette butt into an ashtray and popping minty gum into her mouth. She wore pale grey with black gloves, her collar up against the brisk wind, and she bowed when she was close enough. "Pleasure to meet you, Seta Souji. We've heard a lot about you."

 

"You've been all Yukiko's talked about for the last two weeks," Amemiya added, smiling like a sunrise and dressed in more colours than expressionist wall art. Red and blue and green, all in strong shades that set off the gold streak in her hair. "Welcome back to Kyoto."

 

Souji picked up a Kanto inflection from Kisaragi while Amemiya definitely had a regional feel to her voice, almost using Kansai-ben. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," he answered as he greeted them with a polite bow. "Thanks for looking out for her. It's meant a lot to her to have such close friends here."

 

"She's an angel compared to some of the students at the dorm," Kisaragi noted dryly, shivering a little in the cold.

 

"By the way, it's just Natsuki for me," Amemiya let him know. "And you can call Mei by her name too. No need to be so formal when we're practically family, right?"

 

Souji raised an eyebrow. "Practically family," was pushing it, but it was nice to know that Yukiko had won them over so effectively. That or Amemiya had a penchant for exaggeration. "Natsuki-san and Mei-san it is, then."

 

He turned to introduce the others. Kou immediately came under scrutiny, standing as he was with his hand around Chie's, but he seemed to pass their test in what was more a case of connecting faces with names than anything. Yosuke and Rise, on the other hand, were new and novel, and Natsuki-san immediately hit it off with the starlet when she mentioned having listened to most of Rise's songs. Yosuke pitched in some ideas of his own on the topic of music, and soon the three were talking amongst themselves in their own little world.

 

"I guess that covers that," Kou noted while readjusting his grip on his bags.

 

While the introductions were being made, Yukiko had stepped up next to Souji to watch their friends, reaching out to hold his hand. Souji smiled and pulled his hand back, ignoring her surprised look to step closer and wrap his free arm around her waist and pull her close. "It does seem that way," Souji commented, arm around his girl and feeling a familiar calm as she pressed in even closer and made a content noise. He could easily feel her warmth through the layers of her clothes, and it took the edge off the sharp wind. "What's first on the list? Where do we go from here?"

 

"We should get something to eat first," Yukiko suggested. "We've been so busy making plans that we skipped lunch."

 

Souji chuckled. He knew what was coming.

 

"That's not good for you, Yukiko-san," Kou informed her in a slight admonishment. "Your diet as a student is especially important since you're pushing yourself and probably not getting enough proper nutrition."

 

She chuckled in a remarkable mimicry of Souji and shrugged. "We wanted to eat with you all, and it won't hurt us to do it once in a while. We have a place in mind, if you want to go now. We also made arrangements for everyone's hotels while you're here."

 

That last bit made Souji's eyebrow raise. Lodging had been a detail they'd worked out before, but she'd added that on purpose, so was she just being thorough? Or did she have something else in mind? "Dinner sounds great," he replied, to which Kou and Yosuke – when he could be pulled from the conversation – agreed. "We'll have to stop somewhere to drop off our bags though."

 

"This place has a storage area for things like that," Mei-san informed him, pointing in the direction of the restaurant in question. "They cater to people fresh off the train, and it's a nice place with good prices."

 

"It's going to be packed at this time of night," Souji surmised, looking at the still-crowded train station.

 

Mei-san smiled through her shivers and started herding them down the street. "We made reservations. Come on, let's go. They serve warmed sake and I could use a bottle or two."

 

They made their way to the restaurant, chatting amongst themselves. Chie and Souji touched base before she started talking to Kou about her martial arts classes, and Mei-san stepped in and asked about Souji's job while talking about some of her classes. He helped where he could and felt a measure of energy enter his body. It had been too long since he'd been around his friends, focused on work and school and money like he was, and the familiar sense of camaraderie with Yosuke and Rise along with Chie and Yukiko was a welcome balm on his soul.

 

Speaking of Yukiko, she must have had something on her mind because she was rather quiet as they walked. Souji talked to her as they walked, but there were pauses in her answers that told him her mind was somewhere else. When he asked if everything was alright, she nodded and massaged the base of his spine and rubbing his back. When he leaned into her hand and looked at her, he caught a fleeting glimpse of something familiar in her eyes. Something that warmed his blood.

 

"Here we are," Chie indicated, going ahead with Mei-san to talk to the host at the front of the restaurant. Within a few minutes they had given their bags to the employees and were seated at the back at a large, spacious table. Yukiko, of course, sat next to him and used his hands to warm her own.

 

"Cold?" he asked, rubbing them to get some warmth back into them. "You should get some new gloves."

 

"These ones are fine," she replied with a smile. "I forgot to put them on when we got to the train station, that's all."

 

Preening a bit, he smiled and palmed her fingers until the heat seeped into them. "Out in the cold and you forgot to put your gloves on? Did you miss me that much?"

 

Her dark eyes narrowed a little. "More."

 

Yes, there was definitely something in her eyes that he liked. He kissed her hand while the others were still talking and saw that something burn brighter when his lips touched her skin, and what fatigue he was feeling fell away.

 

The others continued their conversations or started new ones as soon as they were seated, and dinner was a fun, filling affair. Rise was becoming Natsuki-san's new best friend and the two were in their element, talking about fashions and foods. Kou and Chie were laughing about something as they shuffled closer together, and Mei-san watched them all with an affectionate smile while she ordered another bottle of sake.

 

The person Souji noticed most was Yosuke. Here, among all these couples and affectionate feelings, he was the lone stag with no one to talk to. Once his contributions on the topic of music had been exhausted, he was pretty much on his own. Instead of looking uncomfortable, though, he seemed to be enjoying his food and watching Chie and Rise and even him and Yukiko with quiet eyes and an understanding smile. Souji knew what that look meant. Even though they'd never talked about it during the investigation, maybe because it never came up or needed to be said in the first place, it was clear that Yosuke was still operating in his place as Souji's second in command. Rise, Chie and Yukiko, and even Kou to an extent, were as much his people as they were Souji's. Instead of feeling singled out, he was using the opportunity to look out for his friends while indulging in the chance to take a load off.

 

Yosuke caught him looking and gave a small salute with his glass, and Souji nodded in response, not sure if he could properly communicate what the realization meant to him. If anything, it just solidified something he'd known since that fight at the Samegawa: he had the best friends he could have asked for, and he'd find a way to pay Yosuke back. It wasn't something he needed to bring up right away, and he had no idea what sort of gift would strike the balance, but he would find something.

 

The moment passed and they all dug into their courses with gusto, chatting and sharing stories until Yukiko's hand on his leg got the message across that she'd been waiting patiently for quite a while. "You'll have to excuse us for the night, everyone," he told them, pulling out some bills to cover his and Yukiko's meal. "I could use some more rest after the trip here."

 

"That's a smart idea," Kou mentioned, turning from Chie long enough to regard them both. "You've been burning the candle from both ends lately. Take it easy while we're here."

 

"Yes, Sensei," Souji shot back, earning them a round of laughter.

 

"Call us in the morning," Rise insisted, getting up and coming around to give Yukiko another hug. "We'll do something for breakfast."

 

They said their farewells, interrupted only when Mei-san took Yukiko's arm as she passed and pulled her down to say something that Souji couldn't hear. Whatever she said was enough to make Yukiko blush, but Mei patted her on the shoulder before raising her sake glass to Souji.

 

Was that about what he thought it was about?

 

Yukiko pulled him out the door after he collected his bags, and hand in hand they continued down the street to the hotel. They chatted about nothing, sometimes not even finishing their sentences as they pressed closer together. Sometime she'd walk ahead of him to hit the crosswalk button, and he used the chance to admire how those jeans and boots made her legs look mouth-watering. Knowing her, it wasn't a coincidence, and it made him glad that he'd come prepared.

 

Once they arrived, she pulled him toward the elevators instead of the front desk. "I already have the key," she said quietly.

 

He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing while they went to the elevator hall, hitting a button and waiting for their ride up.

 

"Mei-san helped me make the arrangements," she continued, holding his hand and rubbing their rings together. "She's been a lot of help since we got here. Natsuki-san too."

 

"I guess I should thank them for your change in wardrobe," Souji commented with a smile.

 

Eyes narrowing, she turned to him and stood up on her toes with a glare. "Does that mean I can't look good without their help?"

 

"You look incredible in whatever you wear," he informed her candidly, smiling as she blushed. "A few of these are outside of your comfort zone, though. How do you fit into those jeans?"

 

"It took some work," she admitted, backing down a bit. "Do you like them?"

 

"Love them," was his immediate response. "Wear them again."

 

She looked like she was about to respond, but their elevator arrived and the car emptied of people of all shapes and sizes making their way out and going their separate directions. When Souji and Yukiko got on, he not-so-subtly jammed the "close door" button while she turned and perched against the wall. Behind her bangs, her eyes were burning with what he'd seen on the way to the hotel: a potent brew of excitement and love with a healthy dose of lust that prompted her to bit the corner of her lower lip like she was trying to resist something tasty. Her hands wrapped around the elevator rail behind her but her whole body twitched like it wanted to be free of her restraint.

 

Souji grinned at how much she wanted him, pushing the button harder. It felt like an eternity before the doors _finally_ began to close, no calls from anyone to hold the ride up. That was just as well, because the moment the doors closed, he was attacked by his fiancée.

 

In two steps she was in front of him, arms around his neck and mouth on his with an insistence that felt like she was trying to consume him. He dropped his bags and crushed her to him, pushing back to match her until she was pinned against the wall. That just made her more needy. She kissed him harder and moaned down his throat, worked her tongue against his and brought one leg up to wrap around his waist. Souji used the chance to move a hand to her thigh, running up the tight denim to her marvellous rear. He gave it a firm squeeze and that only made her wrap around him even more tightly.

 

The kiss was like suffocating in a good way. He breathed her in and ignored the need for oxygen, his body drinking its fill of her after being parched for so long. As cliché as it sounded, seeing her at the train station was like feeling a piece of himself click back into place. He wanted her to be there, with him, with a fervour that he couldn't control. He tried to communicate what she meant to him through their kisses and touches, cradling her neck and deepening the kiss even more while she cleaved to him. Things were moving further and faster than before, and there was far less hesitation this time. Their talks about sex back in Inaba came to mind only long enough to interrupt them for a moment.

 

"If you're not sure about this," he gasped when she finally pulled back for air, a hazy look in her eyes.

 

She silenced him with a finger to his lips, talking fast. "I am. I haven't stopped thinking about this for two weeks, and you owe me for making me wait this long. I'm not afraid, and I'm not going to regret it. Was there anything else?"

 

It seemed like she was feeling the push of hormones as much as he was. He was glad those details were out of the way. "Nothing at all," he replied, checking their upward progress before kissing her one more time. They were rather lucky no one else had called the elevator, but he knew it wasn't going to last. They had to stop, and he'd meant to give her enough to hold her over, but what was supposed to be one last kiss ended with him making out with her until she let him go. As soon as his lips were on hers, she'd grabbed on and wouldn't let go. Pulling back only made her cling harder and follow him, so it wasn't until a _ding_ announced the arrival on their floor that they pulled apart. When the elevator doors opened for their floor, they were red-faced and breathing hard in front of a group of people who were, hopefully, too busy talking among themselves to notice.

 

"Excuse us," the pair said and Yukiko led him down the hall to their room. She found it and tried to pull the key out of her pocket, but dropped it in her haste to open the door. When she grabbed for it and missed it, Souji glanced up and down the hall, blocked the view with his bags, and gave her rear a possessive squeeze that made her freeze and hitch her breath a little.

 

"Like I said, those jeans look great on you," he observed with a wicked smile. "But you'd better get the door open, sweetie, if you want to do this in a bed."

 

She nodded quickly, grabbed the key and almost tore the door open as she pulled him inside. It was barely closed when she pounced again, pushing his things to the floor and leading him to the bed against the wall.

 

Souji didn't know where his bags ended up, nor did he see her belongings in the corner where she'd obviously brought them before she'd met him at the station. All he saw was her. All that mattered was her. He stopped her from moving, pulled her in for a long kiss that had her knees shaking by the end. He held her up and looked into her loving, half-lidded, hazy eyes while touching his forehead to hers. "Hey," he began quietly, letting the mood envelope them. "I haven't said it yet, but I love you a lot."

 

"That's cheating," she whined, hands trembling as she held onto his coat.

 

"You're cheating too," he countered. His body was pushing him forward, demanding to know why they'd stopped. "When did you get this beautiful?"

 

She gave him a look that told him she wanted to say something, but she tried twice and didn't seem able to. Instead she kissed him softly, her tongue dancing with his while their breathing picked up and she mewled against him. "I love you too," she whispered as she broke the kiss by a fraction of an inch. "I'm trying to think of how to tell you how much, but I can't." Her eyes were moist as she spoke, her eyes and emotions bare. Part of him could have stood there all night, staring at her and how incredible she looked with her cheeks red and the small puffs of air coming out between her parted lips. She closed those midnight eyes of hers before reopening them, letting him go and stepping back. She pulled her coat, mitts and scarf off, tossing them onto the bed or the floor while never looking away from him.

 

He hair was free, no barrette this time, and her hands were shaking when she sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to him. "Keep going, Souji," she told him in a quiet tone that he felt on the cellular level. Of all the times she'd said his name, even when they were naked in his room in Inaba, he'd never heard it sound so sweet as this moment, and it made his breath shake when he thought of the influence he seemed to have on her.

 

Souji leaned over her and kissed her softly, revelling in the feel of her fingers in his hair while he pulled back enough to hit his hands between them and undo her blouse. She gave a breathless, high-pitched keen when he got to her waist and wrapped his arms around her, his hands on her bare skin. She tried pulling back for air, but he followed her and kissed her deeper for a moment before separating, her gasps like music in his ears. When he looked down from her flushed cheeks and neck, he saw her lovely breasts held by a black, lacy bra, and resting on her collarbone was the pendant he'd given her for her graduation. He wasn't sure which was the more lovely sight.

 

"Tonight wouldn't have been right without it," she whispered when she saw where his eyes were lingering, squirming up the bed and reaching over to dim the lights. "I haven't taken it off since you gave it to me."

 

Souji smiled. He was wearing the chain she'd given him, so it seemed were on the same wavelength. "Me too," he replied before stealing another kiss and pressing her into the bed.

 

While the idea of sex had been a scary one before, he felt ready now. More than ready. Every time their lips touched, he felt closer to her in more ways than just skin. He felt like he was connecting with _her_ , and the science and physical details were only a hindrance. He wanted to complete that bond, to connect with her and take this next step in their relationship together.  On a more carnal level, Souji couldn't deny that he _wanted_ her in every way he could have her. She was his beautiful, sexy, funny, dorky Yukiko, and there was a lot to explore while they had this time together.

 

She seemed to be coming to similar realization, because when he leaned down to kiss her, she stopped him with hands on his shoulders and a growing frown. "You're wearing too many clothes. All of them, off. Now."

 

"Yes ma'am," he replied, pulling his coat off but letting her come up and push his shirt back, thrilling at the possessiveness in her hands. Before she could strip him naked, he reached for her hips, working his hands along the hem of her jeans before slowly, slowly undoing them to see what panties she was wearing underneath. Small, black, and lacy like her bra. "You had this planned," he noted, kissing along her stomach while he pulled them off.

 

It took some very suggestive wriggling on her part to get out of her boots and jeans, and she got more heated with every passing second. "So did you," she countered, grabbing his hand when they were off and pulling him up to look him in the eye. "Now, stop teasing me. I want this, and there's a TV in here. Don't make me hurt you."

 

She sounded serious enough that Souji blinked for a moment. He didn't know if their powers still worked, but this was the first time she'd threatened him with them. He forgot about that the moment he looked at her, though. The command in her voice and the burning look in her eyes almost made his legs buckle. Half-naked, she was a figure worthy of his worship, and denying her became an impossibility. "Alright," he murmured.

 

The rest of their clothes came off by his hands or hers, and while he fetched the box of condoms he'd brought with him, he marvelled at her naked form. Pale skin in the low light, hard nipples and barely-open eyes, that black hair fanned out on the pillows as she leaned back, and the simple fact that it was _her_ in front of him. Her stomach seemed flatter and more trim than last time he'd seen it, making him appreciate all the time she'd spent swimming. It had done wonders to her already-striking figure, and his fingers itched to get back to her skin.

 

Once he had the condom on, he knelt between her legs and leaned over her. She was trembling a little, her lip between her teeth again, but she met his gaze and nodded resolutely. The shakes had been from desire, then, and not nerves. Souji took a bracing breath, lined himself up, and pressed in. First the entrance, and then slowly, _slowly_ deeper into her tight, gripping heat. Her eyes widened and her mouth was open a little as she held his biceps, her breath hitching the deeper he went.

 

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice shaking. Being halfway into her, even with latex between them, was a feeling beyond anything he'd imagined. It tested his control and made him want to keep going, but it also opened his mind to the bond between them, how it thrummed with their heartbeats and shared breaths. Was it normal for people to be this much in sync their first time?

 

Instead of looking worried or hurt, she smiled, and a more beautiful smile he'd never seen from her before. "Perfect," she whispered back, eyes almost black in the low light as she looked up. She stroked his arms and touched his face. "This is perfect, Souji," she continued in _that_ tone, eyes getting wet. "Keep going."

 

He nodded and pushed forward more, lowering himself so he could reach her butt and pull her up, going deeper.

 

"That's it," she gasped, wrapping her legs around him and trying to pull him in even more.

 

Souji shook at the feeling of her legs completely around him for the first time. He could feel his control slipping, could feel the urge to take her hard growing even stronger. "Wait," he rasped, holding onto her and not letting himself go any deeper. "I don't want to hurt you." He wanted to keep going and not stop for anything until they couldn't move, but he also knew he'd never forgive himself if something went wrong.

 

"You're not," she protested quickly, her breathing speeding up while her skin became slick with her sweat. "You won't. Please, _please_ keep going."

 

Souji grit his teeth. If he did keep going this slow, he wouldn't last very long. And as much as he wanted to be careful, he also trusted her to tell him if something went wrong on her end. He nodded and tightened his grip on her ass, pulling her up as he pushed forward. She hissed a little, but tightened her legs around him. Souji kept going until he was completely in her and his pelvis met hers. He watched her in euphoric wonder as she gasped and shivered, looking up at him with more love than he'd ever seen before.

 

She didn't say anything. She reached up to kiss him and squirm a little, encouraging him to continue. The kiss was short and relatively quick, but he felt a jolt between them like it had completed an electrical circuit. From the look in her eyes, she'd felt it too. "I love you, you know," she whispered softly.

 

"That's cheating," he shot back, returning the kiss and moving his hips. He used one hand to keep himself up and moved the other to her breast, cupping it and teasing the nipple while she held onto him. She met his thrusts with her own every time, and a delicious friction built between them. It was a winding coil, a spring ready to snap, and there was something deeper to it that defied his expectations. After all he'd been through with her, from the walks to the dates to the kisses, he'd never felt this close to her before. He could taste the sweat on her neck, he could feel her clenching around him, and he could smell her, so potent that his head swam, but underneath it all was the enveloping sense of _her_ that seeped into his heart and soul. It was a strong dose that injected itself into his heart, hitting him harder than anything he'd ever felt. As he thrust and she met him, while their eyes locked and never broke contact, they were reaching a point of becoming a single entity instead of one or the other. It was growing to the point of a religious experience, and the only thing Souji could feel was Yukiko and the precious knowledge that she was feeling the same way about him.

 

How long he lasted, he had no idea. Time melted away into the shadows of the room, all he could feel and smell and taste and hear was his Yukiko. Even in his inexperience, he thought he felt her hit the peak at least twice before he groaned and emptied into the condom, shaking while he held himself above her before settling down on his side. She melted into his embrace, their bodies moulding together. He'd never felt anything like it. He was naked, bare to the world with the most important person in his life. There was vulnerability, but also the knowledge that she'd be there with him, no matter what. He couldn't help rubbing up and down her back while he caught his breath.

 

It took a few minutes before either of them spoke. "Thank you," she eventually told him, voice quivering a little. "That was... that was everything I'd dreamed of."

 

"I'm glad," was his reply. What could he say that would encompass what just happened? How could he sum it up using mere words? He thought about it before letting those thoughts trail away. No, this wasn't the time for thinking and explanations. Whatever it was, it simply was, and having a word for it wouldn't change how he felt. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her. "How are you feeling?"

 

"Hmmmmm..." she purred, looking up and teasing him with her eyes. "Pretty good."

 

He brushed her bangs back, stroking along her neck and listening to her purr more. "Thanks for the ego boost, but I mean besides that. The first time hurts for most girls."

 

She shook her head. "It didn't hurt much. I think the TV world made sure of that."

 

Souji had heard of that, and what he'd read about it said that every girl was different, but the more athletic ones were likely to have lost their hymens some time before their first sexual expeience. It seemed Yukiko was one of the lucky ones. "That's good." They nuzzled and kissed until Yukiko squirmed out of his arms and sat up. Souji was distracted by the view her movements gave him of her bare chest, but his curiosity got the best of him. "What is it?"

 

"I need my phone for a minute." She shuffled down to the end of the bed and tried to stand up before her legs quivered and she fell back, jostling him a little.

 

Souji smirked, thinking he knew what the problem was but wanting to hear her say it. "Everything all right?"

 

"Fine," she told him, trying again and managing to stand, but only on shaky legs. "I'm fine. You just made it hard to walk, that's all."

 

Something for which he was exceedingly proud. She was a gorgeous creature, lit up by the dim room lights like she was, but seeing her step lightly bothered him. Even if he was happy why she was like that.

 

Souji got out of the bed, disposed of the condom, and walked up to her, kissing her before scooping her up into his arms to the tune of her startled cry.

 

"I can walk on my own," she protested even as she moved closer, rubbing her cheek into his shoulder.

 

He carried her over to her coat so she could grab her phone and, not letting her go, took her back to the bed. "I like this," he replied, gently setting her back down and pulling the covers back over them. "What do you need your phone for?"

 

She pulled the blankets around her chest and held the phone up, turning on the camera. "This is a first for both of us. I want to remember it." She steadied her arm and pulled him closer before taking the picture.

 

"You know that taking the picture means someone else can see it," Souji pointed out. "And do you mean that you won't remember tonight without it?"

 

She swatted his arm, turning to look at him. "Don't be silly. Of course I will. How are you feeling?"

 

Souji chuckled. "Pretty okay. Not too much bleeding and my hips are only cracked, not broken. I think I'll live."

 

She swatted him again, rolling on top of him and holding his arms down. "I'm serious. With everything, was this... well, you know."

 

How could he put it into words? Were there words for how much he loved her? It didn't seem possible that he felt even closer to her than he had before, but he couldn't deny that such was the case. "Tonight was amazing, Yukiko," he told her quietly, kissing her fingers and leaning closer. "I thought about it before, but nothing came close to this. I think the biggest difference was you being here. There's no replacement for that."

 

That was the right thing to say, clearly, given how she blushed but smiled. She leaned down to kiss him lightly, then with growing passion until they were exploring each other's mouths and rocking together. "Can you go again?" she asked, eyes showing that unfocused mix of love and desire.

 

Instead of answering, Souji pulled himself up and started suckling on her breasts, palming the one that wasn't in his mouth.

 

"Souji," she protested, a hitch in her voice as she breathed faster. "I asked you a question."

 

"Mm hm," he responded around his oral worship, switching sides and grabbing her rear with his free hand. "I heard you."

 

She ran her hands through his hair, pressing him closer for a minute before prying his arms open and pushing him to the bed. "Good. Then you won't mind if I'm on top this time."

 

Yukiko might have wanted her pictures to commemorate their first night together, but Souji would be fine with his memories. She rose above him and rode him hard enough that there would be bruises the next morning, one hand clasped with his while the other was on his chest to support herself. The sight of this woman he loved, alive in the moonlight with her breasts bouncing about and his pendant gleaming as it moved with her, would be something he would remember until the day he died.

 

\---

 

Yukiko stirred, gently at first as her thoughts returned to her in pieces. They tantalized her with the memories of the night before, the pleasure she felt in connecting with Souji on the deepest level after months apart, and she rose to the surface of consciousness. Her eyes opened slowly, and she registered a warm male chest against her. Everything was a little blurry, but her vision corrected once she rubbed her eyes and stretched, popping and cracking her joints before she rested back on the bed. She looked down at the other person in her bed, and smiled. Her Souji. In spite of how much she'd thought of this, last night had been too special to be a dream. Her thighs were still sore, but the ache was delicious rather than painful. She'd take it all as it was and remember it forever.

 

She hadn't been kidding. Since she'd come back from clothes shopping with Chie and Natsuki-san, seeing him again had been at the front of her mind. It had gotten into her dreams, distracted her in class, and even remembering how his hands felt in Inaba with her bedroom door closed hadn't scratched the growing itch. She'd been counting the hours down for the last two weeks, and it was apparently getting easy to notice because Mei-san had taken her aside to talk to her about it and help her set everything up. Dinner, the hotel, more research that had only made the itch worse. Then she'd seen him at the train station, felt his arms around her, and everything came together the night before. She felt like everything was where it was supposed to be now, except she'd wanted more with what time they had. She wanted to try new things with him, to push the envelope so they could enjoy themselves as much as they could whenever they could. Someone from Inaba might have been surprised by how forward her thinking was becoming, but she was far past the point of caring. Her and Souji were the only ones who mattered as far as she was concerned.

 

Especially now that he was waking up. His eyes fluttered, then he sniffed and curled up before he came to, blinking up at her with those gorgeous silver eyes.

 

"Hey," she greeted quietly, brushing his hair back. Seeing it on screen had been tempting, but feeling it between her fingers, making him even more handsome than before, made her smile. "How do you feel?"

 

He gently put his hand on her cheek, and his response was sleepy but heart-warming and honest. "You're here, so it's pretty good."

 

She peppered his lips with small kisses before replying. "I was just thinking that. I'm glad you agree."

 

They lie there for a while, not speaking and not needing to, touching softly and feeling the gentle bond between them hum along their skin. Neither pushed the other into arousal, happy to indulge in the moment.

 

It was half an hour later when he spoke. "Feel like sharing a shower?"

 

"I'd love to."

 

She pulled the covers back, glancing at the few drops of blood that signified her given, not lost, virginity and added the sight to her growing mental scrapbook. This would be one of the rare times when spilled blood made her feel happy, almost giddy, instead of sick.

 

She didn't bother with a nightgown or even her usual shirt and shorts. The only person around was Souji, and because it was him, she had no desire to hide from him or cover up. He seemed to appreciate her decision, given how he stopped and looked her over with an approving smile. She hammed it up a bit and gave a little pirouette, looking at him over her shoulder like she'd seen Rise do in the past. Souji laughed and pushed her toward the bathroom, kissing her behind the ear and making her shiver.

 

She let him get into the shower first, then stepped in front of him when the spray warmed up. The shower wasn't wide enough for them to stand side by side, so she directed the spray down at herself, too low to get to him, and began to wash herself. He was accommodating at first, but began to look rather unimpressed when she lathered up and washed her hair. By the time she was washing the conditioner out of her hair, she was smiling brightly and humming a little tune to herself. There was nothing wrong with feeling happy after last night, was there?

 

"You're being a brat again," he growled when she got out of the shower.

 

"But you love me anyway," she shot back, reaching for a towel.

 

She was so sure she had him that she barely saw his hand flash down and collide with her backside, hard enough to echo while she shrieked in surprise.

 

"Hey! That could leave a mark!" she told him, hands down and rubbing where he'd smacked her.

 

He leaned forward, eyes narrow as his hair became waterlogged under the spray. "That's what last night means, sweetie," he replied in a low voice that made her thighs quiver. "I'm yours, and you're all mine."

 

"That doesn't mean my butt," she protested. "Especially if you're going to abuse it."

 

"Sure it does," he informed her, eyeing her up and down. "You deserved it, especially for being a little brat."

 

"No I didn't," she protested as she wrapped herself in the towel.

 

He chuckled in a voice that echoed in the bathroom. "Yes, you did."

 

"I did not!"

 

"We'll have to settle for joint ownership then, because I'm pretty sure it does."

 

Yukiko pouted and rubbed some more. "That hurt."

 

"You love me anyway," he shot back, then stepped back into the shower and closed the curtain.

 

Yukiko grabbed another towel for her hair, pulling it off the rack harder than she needed to, and went back into the room. Insufferable jerk. That had hurt, and the water made it sting more. Still, there was something fun about how free they were being with each other. She couldn't have imagined being so comfortable with anyone when they'd first met, and the thrill she felt, having the chance to be with him and not having to keep her feelings to herself, was well worth a few hand-shaped bruises on her butt. Besides, she thought with a grin, she'd get him back next time.

 

Her plans for retribution were interrupted by a familiar ringtone and vibration on the table.

 

"Your phone's ringing," she called to him, walking toward it.

 

"It might be from work," he shouted back. "Could you answer it? I'll be out in a minute."

 

"Sure." She picked his phone up and received the call. "Hello?"

 

There was a slight pause before a woman's voice replied. "I'm sorry, I must have the wrong number."

 

Who was this? Yukiko knew most of the women in Souji's life, and this didn't sound like any one of them. Except... maybe it was Takenaka? Or perhaps someone at his new job? "If you're looking for Seta Souji, this is his phone. He's occupied at the moment."

 

"Ah, I see. Will he be available soon?"

 

Why would Takenaka sound like she was calling an unfamiliar number? Maybe it was someone from his job. But it sounded like there were rails clicking in the background. Was this person on a train? "He should be. Might I ask who this is?"

 

There was another pause before the woman spoke again. "Pardon me for asking, but are you a friend of his?"

 

"That might be a word for it," Yukiko replied carefully.

 

There was a measure of realization or recognition in her voice now. "You wouldn't happen to have black hair and light skin, would you? And dark eyes, maybe?"

 

Yukiko cleared her throat. That was far too close to the mark to be a coincidence. No one who'd seen her would ask that. "I'll have to ask who this is before I say anything."

 

"Of course, I'm sorry." Whoever this was, she sounded sincere. "That was rude of me. My name is Seta Izumi. Souji is my son."

 

Yukiko's eyes felt like they could have rolled out of her head. Someone could have knocked her over with a breath.

 

"I was hoping to catch him and wish him well for the holidays," Seta Izumi continued. "My apologies for the questions, but I was of the impression that he was seeing someone of that description. That's why I asked."

 

Yukiko's heart fluttered. What was she supposed to say? Should she hang up? Take a message? The closest she'd gotten to Souji's parents was his warnings about his father and, even further back than that, when she'd visited him in Kofu and his mother had come home unexpectedly. She had so little to go on that she wasn't certain what excuses to give or what would be good or bad territory. What if she offended the woman? What if she said something wrong?

 

She stopped at that thought. No. She didn't have reasons to be afraid or excuses to make. Whether Souji liked it or not this woman was going to be Yukiko's mother-in-law one day, and for that reason she owed it to herself to at least have an idea of what their relationship was. "I'm sure he'll appreciate that, Seta-san," she replied, a little calmer.

 

"I'd like to think so," Seta-san commented with a quiet chuckle. "I don't think I caught your name though. You sound like you know Souji well."

 

"That's... I don't mean any disrespect, but who I am is a sensitive issue to Souji. He's had some disagreements with his father over that girl you were talking about."

 

"Yuuma?" Seta-san asked. "Why? What's going on between them?"

 

"You'd be better off speaking to him about that, I'm afraid," Yukiko replied. "I don't know all the details, and I wouldn't want to be misleading about it."

 

There was a momentary pause on the line before Seta-san spoke again. "You don't have to say anything," she began, "but I'm going to assume that the reason that you're a sensitive issue to Souji is because you are the person I described. If that's the case, why can't you introduce yourself? You don't have to tell me what's going on between Souji and his father."

 

"You would have to speak to Souji about that," Yukiko said simply. "Him or Doujima-san."

 

"Ryo knows about this too?"

 

Ryo? Yukiko couldn't imagine anyone, even a relative, calling Doujima-san that. Even Souji refused to address his uncle by his first name, as close as they were. "I believe so, if you mean Detective Doujima in Inaba. I know he and Souji have talked about the matter before."

 

Seta-san sighed. "I seem to be behind on a lot of things then."

 

It was strange for Yukiko to talk about herself as though she weren't who she was, and she found that she didn't like it. Watching her words to this extent and walking the edge of privacy and dishonesty didn't sit well with her. "Might I ask what your concern with this person is?"

"My brother sent me a photo of Souji with a lovely young woman, someone who seemed to be his girlfriend," Seta-san informed her after a moment. "This was the first I'd heard of it, so you can imagine how surprised I was since I didn't know Souji had anyone like that in his life."

 

Yukiko felt a bit bad about that. It hadn't been her place before, but she could imagine how Seta-san must have felt, learning about all this from a second-hand source. "I can't comment on that," Yukiko informed her, "but I know that Souji always thinks things through. He wouldn't do anything if he didn't think it was necessary."

 

Seta-san chuckled. "He's like both of us in that respect." It was easy to imagine the woman's smile on the other end. "He's lucky to have you in his life, though. The picture Ryo sent me makes me think that you're very important to him."

 

The words were hard to say, but Yukiko forced them out anyway. "Excuse me, but I didn't say I was that close to him."

 

"That may be true, but you sound like you are," Seta-san told her confidently. "Souji's not easy to read for most people, but you speak about him like you know him well. I get the feeling that you're close to him, or at least close enough to not use any honorifics when you talk about him."

 

Yukiko bit her tongue, hearing the shower turn off. She hadn't meant to let that slip. "A lot of his friends are quite casual with him," she replied. "We don't use them when we don't need to."

 

Seta-san laughed, a rather musical sound that even the cell signal and the sound of rails couldn't dampen. "Of course, my dear, of course. I won't ask who you are or what your relationship with him is, but nonetheless, I'm glad you're at least friends with him."

 

"Who is it?" Souji asked, coming out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. "Sorry about the wait. You used up all the shampoo."

 

"Just a moment." Yukiko handed the phone out to him, not sure what to say. She didn't even have a retort to his jab. "It's Seta Izumi."

 

The moment the family name crossed her lips, Souji's face changed like quicksilver. He was looking right at her and she had _never_ seen his expressions shift that fast. From shock to disbelief to anger to a cold, hard mask. The last time she'd seen him like that had been when they were in the TV, fighting Shadows. Without a word he took the phone and let out a long, hard breath, eyes going from brilliant silver to cold steel in a snap.

 

Yukiko didn't like the look and knew that their pleasant morning was over. She didn't try to listen to his hushed conversation, or admire how his lovely back was on display for her. She went to her bags as fast as she could without running and pulled the day's clothes out, changing as fast as she could. She swore under her breath as a few of the buttons on her blouse refused to cooperate, and almost tore her leggings getting them on, but by the time he was finished the call, she was dressed and ready to face the music. She didn't even take the time to do more with her hair than comb it back with her fingers.

 

She could tell he was angry. His phone's resilience was being tested by how hard he was squeezing it, and she could see the hard lines of his jaw flexing as he clenched his teeth.

 

"What is it?" she asked after several quiet seconds.

 

He let out a breath like steam escaping an engine, a long sharp hiss between his teeth. "She wants to meet us for dinner," he replied, setting his phone on the table gently before turning to glare at her. "I tried to tell her off, but she insisted. She said she liked talking to you. So she wants to meet you in person. Hope you didn't have any plans tonight."

 

"I didn't know it was her," Yukiko objected, feeling her heart harden. It killed her to have to do this, but she knew it was necessary. "She seemed to know who I was just from talking to her. I wanted to know how."

 

"Take a message next time," Souji advised her coldly. "Or hang up. Or pretend to be Rise. Whatever the case, you should have let me handle this. That would have been better than her knowing about you and pulling on strings."

 

"You can't keep shutting her out like this," Yukiko protested, stepping up to him. "She's your mother, and whatever you have against your father, that doesn't mean that she's a part of it."

 

"That's my problem," he snapped. "Both of them are my problems. They're not yours."

 

"Yes, they are!" she shot right back, taking another step and almost ending up in his face. "You decided that when you proposed to me. I'm going to be related to her after we're married, so she _is_ my problem!"

 

His fists tightened and his eyes grew even harder. "You don't know anything about this," Souji gritted. "You don't know her. You don't know Seta Yuuma, either, or how much he'll fuck all this up if he gets involved."

 

Souji's swearing shocked Yukiko, but not enough to keep her off the warpath. She could see the hints of fear in his eyes, same as she'd seen it in Inaba. He might have masked it behind indifference and anger, but it was there and it was in the driver's seat right now. "Neither do you," she snapped. "Whenever anyone talks about your parents, you change the conversation or drop it. When was the last time you all talked? Have you even tried understanding them? You haven't, have you? You're running from them because of something that happened in the past and you don't know them right now because you're too busy running away from them!"

 

Her words hit him like a punch, enough that he stepped back and looked at her like she'd actually hit him. She could see the stricken vulnerabilities in his eyes, the cracks in his armour, and it broke her heart to know that she'd put them there.

 

Now she had to fix them.

 

"Listen to me," she asked, reaching for his arms.

 

"Not a chance," he hissed, smacking her hands away.

 

Despite her efforts, no matter how much she told herself she had to do this, she could feel the tears coming. It hurt a lot to see him like this. "Please, Souji! Just listen."

 

"You've said enough already," he growled, his stance defensive. "I don't need this. Not from you."

 

"Souji," she whispered, tears falling. "Please? Just listen to me."

 

He stared at her, fighting with the pride she'd shredded, the revulsion of hurting her, and the anger at everything. She could see the storm of emotions in him and knew what it was doing to him. She also knew it had to stop. "What?" he whispered.

 

"Let's meet your mom together," she began, hands on his cheeks. "I want to hear what she has to say. If things get as bad as you think, then we'll leave and never talk about it again. I promise. I'll even tell her off and leave first if it's that bad."

 

"She's not the problem," he murmured, hands on her hips, shaking with his turmoil. "My father is, and you can't separate one from the other."

 

"Him too. Whatever happens, we'll face it together," she promised him. "You've dealt with this on your own for long enough. I'm involved in it now, and I want to help you through it. Whatever that means, I'm here for you."

 

He barked a harsh laugh. "What if we can't deal with it? What if this hits the Inn and your parents too? What if it all goes to hell and I drag you down with me? We can't take it back if that happens."

 

She looked at him without a hint of doubt. "Then I'll be here to help you get to the other side. We'll work together, and we'll figure it out. We've been through worse. We made it through the TV and the Shadows and a lot of other terrible things because we helped each other, not because we did it alone. No matter what the problem is, we'll find a way and make it happen. You taught me that. You taught all of us that."

 

A long, heavy breath came out of him, and he leaned forward until she was supporting his weight. She hugged him tight, not flinching from how much he outweighed her. "Last night was better than I could have imagined," he said softly. "Here, with you, no roommates, nothing to worry about. You were incredible, and I wanted to keep going with that. I didn't want to deal with my parents. All I want is to turn the clock back and break my phone."

 

"I know. I was there," she replied, running her hand through his hair. "Thank you for making it that beautiful, and don't talk like it's over. I'm here now, and I have too much planned to let your mom ruin everything."

 

He choked out a laugh and hugged her tighter, picking her up this time and sitting on the edge of the bed with her on his lap. Surprised as she was with the gesture, she didn't stop stroking his hair or rubbing his back. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Yukiko," he told her with a smile, burying his face into her hair.

 

"You're never going to find out," she answered. "I owe you too much to walk away now."

 

"It's not about keeping score, you know."

 

She straightened a little in his lap and stared him in the face. "Of course not. Points don't matter to me. What does matter is that I've been in love with you since you started walking with me to school and talking to me like I was stronger than I thought I was. The happiest times I ever had at school were after you showed up and helped me. You've been there for me since my Shadow came out, you've helped me make more friends than I can count, and you showed me the road I want to take in life. Now you're in a bind, and I'm here for you. I'm in love with you and I'm crazy about you, Seta Souji, and I'm not letting anything hurt you." Her blinks were sending heartfelt tears down her cheeks, and she let them fall without looking away from him. "And if anyone does, I'll crush them."

 

His tears were mixing with hers, arms tight around her and a shuddering laugh in her ears. "I love you too, Amagi Yukiko. I wish I could show you how much."

 

"You already have," she assured him.

 

How long they stayed like that, neither knew. They swayed back and forth together, taking solace in presence of the other and sharing light kisses until her stomach growled.

 

"Ready for breakfast?" she asked him, ready to just order room service and stay in bed if he wanted. Even if it did cost a small fortune. "We can stay here if you want."

 

He shook his head. "No, let's go. Rise was looking forward to seeing you, and like you said, I can't keep running from this."

 

She wiped her cheeks, then his own. "I'm sorry I said it like that. I didn't want to hurt you. You're not a coward, you know."

 

He shook his head. "It needed to be said, and you're right: I need to at least face this. After breakfast."

 

The spark was back in his eyes, and she leaned up to kiss him. Time stopped between them, the connection in their hearts beating like a pulse, strong and vital. She'd never felt anything like it before, but she wasn't surprised to find their feelings deepening into something even stronger. Of all the things she'd seen and experienced since she'd met him, such a strong bond made a good deal of sense.

 

"Thank you," she whispered.

 

"You too," he replied.

 

She helped him dress, straightening his shirt and jacket out and running her hands down his back. He reached back to catch her hand before he went to grab his phone and contact the others.

 

"Ready?" she asked.

 

"Yeah, I'm ready."

 

\---

 

Souji let out a long breath of vapour when he and Yukiko arrived at the hotel his mother had directed them to. He wasn't looking forward to this. Not to speaking to his mother, not to her seeing the rings he and Yukiko wore, and not to dealing with the issues regarding his father. But like he'd told Yukiko, this was a long time coming. He'd helped his friends deal with their demons already. Now it was time to confront his own.

 

Besides, it wasn't all bad. He got the chance to see Yukiko dressed up. She didn't need nice clothes to be beautiful, but seeing her in a black coat over a red dress, black leggings, and her hair over one shoulder in a loose braid with red ribbons tied throughout was worth the trouble in getting here. It also made him feel ten feet tall when he saw how much attention she was getting from everyone who saw them. He was glad he'd brought his formal clothes along with him; he'd have felt like a heel if she'd dressed up this much and he wasn't able to complement her.

 

"You look great." He'd missed the chance to tell her that when she'd finished her preparations, that's how bowled over he was. She also smelled amazing, her perfume new and a definite favourite already.

 

"Thanks," she answered with a smile. "You look very handsome. And dashing."

 

He choked on his breath and looked over at her with a grin. "Dashing? Really?"

 

"Yes," she insisted imperiously as she stopped, turned and adjusted his tie. "Dashing. Debonair. Very handsome. That's what I think, so that's what I'm calling you."

 

"If the lady wishes."

 

"She does," she informed him with an upturn to her face.

 

Souji laughed and would have kissed her for helping him with his nerves, but he knew how careful she'd been with her make-up. She'd kill him if he smudged her lipstick. Instead he squeezed her hand and leaned in a little closer. "Then may I say that the lady looks especially striking this evening," he told her quietly. "She's more beautiful than any woman I've seen before, and I feel like her efforts to look ravishing have truly paid off."

 

"Ravishing?" Yukiko breathed, eyes alight with dark mischief. "I like that word. I think I'll keep it in mind."

 

"Please do," he told her, bringing her hand up so he could kiss her fingers.

 

She smiled, but the smile sobered when she looked at him a bit closer. "Are you ready for this?" she asked

 

Souji sighed, feeling their playfulness recede in lieu of his mental preparations. It felt like he was preparing for an excursion into the TV again. "Probably not. But let's try to enjoy it."

 

"I'm here," she assured him, moving around so she could take his arm. "Don't forget that."

 

He nodded, took a bracing breath, and stepped over the threshold.

 

A quick word to the host directed them to the table where his mother was seated, a tumbler at her side while she stared at her phone. The first thing that Souji noticed was that she didn't seem like she was there on business. Her hair was down and there weren't folders or files on the table. He couldn't even see any of her attaché cases. He cleared his throat, and managed a small smile when she looked up. "Good evening."

 

"Souji!" She rose with a smile, coming over to hug him, a gesture he returned a bit awkwardly. "Thank you for making the time. I'm sorry for the short notice."

 

"It's alright. What are you doing in Kyoto? Business?"

 

His mother seemed about to answer the question, but when she looked at Yukiko her eyes lit up. "You and I spoke this morning, didn't we? It's a pleasure to meet you at last. I'm afraid I still don't know your name, though."

 

"The pleasure is mine, Seta-san," Yukiko replied with a polite bow. "I'm sorry if this seems rude, but like I said before, I'll have to keep my name to myself for the moment."

 

Izumi looked a bit confused, but rolled with it. "If you like. I must say, you look wonderful."

 

Yukiko did give a genuine smile at that. "Thank you."

 

Izumi gestured to the seats across from her and waved a waiter over. "Drinks?"

 

Souji undid his coat and brushed at his sharp grey jacket before he took Yukiko's coat and set it on the back of her chair. "Something soft for now, thanks." Souji ordered for himself and Yukiko while his mother got another cocktail. While they were at it, they also picked what they wanted for dinner. The prices were lower than Souji expected, much to his relief.

 

"What are you doing in Kyoto, Souji?" Izumi asked once the waiter left. "I thought you'd be spending the holidays in Fujisawa."

 

"I have friends here," Souji replied, gesturing to Yukiko. "And Kyoto's beautiful this time of year."

 

Izumi smiled. "That is true. The city has some wonderful history to it, and I suppose that's why you came here: you always loved history." She looked over at Yukiko, who was, to Souji's shame, mostly silent and reserved. "I don't doubt you're part of the reason he's here, my dear. Tell me, what do you do here?"

 

"I'm attending Kyoto University," Yukiko told her simply, her smile becoming a bit like that of a doll's. "Souji and I decided to enjoy the holidays together, along with some of the other friends we met in Inaba."

 

"What are you taking, if you don't mind my asking?"

 

"That's tied to who she is and where she comes from," Souji commented. "And given our concerns about Father, I think you can understand why we're keeping quiet on those details."

 

"It doesn't make sense," Izumi replied after a moment, her expression sobering. "I understand why you don't want him to know about your affairs, Souji, but what does that have to do with your friend?"

 

"I'd like to know where you stand between him and I," Souji told her.

 

"I can hardly take sides when I don't know what the problem being fought over is, now can I?"

 

Souji didn't reply, and didn't respond when Yukiko looked over at him.

 

"What's the problem with your father?" Izumi asked with a sigh. "This is clearly a sticking point for you, so please tell me what's going on. I know you two have your differences, but you've never kept secrets like this from me. And besides, I can't promise to keep things to myself if I don't know why you want them kept in confidence in the first place."

 

Souji nodded in reply. If he was going to get anywhere now that his mother was here, he was going to have to give her something to work with. He gave her the truncated version of his difficulties at school, expecting her to make some excuses or try and find another answer for things. He was, therefore, surprised when she looked angry once he finished. Not mad or irritated, but genuinely angry, hands closed around her glass tight enough that he almost thought cracks would appear.

 

"I'll speak to him about that," she promised quietly. "He might not like what you do with your life, but it's _your_ life. He shouldn't have interfered like that."

 

That wasn't the answer he'd imagined she'd give. "He never told you about it, I presume."

 

"No. I wouldn't have let it stand if he had."

 

Souji was sceptical, but it was hard to deny the steel in her voice. It had been a long time since he'd seen her this close to losing her temper. "Well, her family owns a _ryokan_ in Inaba," he continued, gesturing to Yukiko, who had been sipping her drink and looking around the restaurant up to now. "If Father finds out about that, he might get some ideas."

 

Izumi sighed, taking a long draw from her glass. "I understand your concerns. I'm sorry it came to that. You can trust me not to tell him anything you don't want me to. I swear," she continued when she saw the look he gave her.

 

Souji wanted to blow her off, but she hadn't truly given him a reason to, and he'd promised Yukiko to give it an honest try. "Alright," he acceded after a few long seconds. Doujima had already promised to help out too, and he was going to have to take them at their word. Things were too much out of his control not to now. "I trust you."

 

Yukiko stroked the back of his hand in support, and it surprised him how much better that made him feel.

 

"It's nice to meet you in person, Seta-san," Yukiko began when she rose to bow deeper than she had before. "I'm Amagi Yukiko, from Inaba. I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to be sure that things would be what you said they would be before I got this far. The Inn is my whole life, so I hope you understand."

 

Izumi stood and returned the gesture. "The pleasure's mine, Yukiko-san. And yes, I understand now. You know that I'm Seta Izumi already, and my first name is fine in cases like this."

 

"Are you sure?" Yukiko asked as they took their seats. "I wouldn't want to presume."

 

"Please do. I think of Seta-san as being Yuuma, you see. Just Izumi will be fine."

 

"I understand, Izumi-san. It's a pleasure to meet you."

 

"The pleasure is mine," Izumi replied with a growing smile. "May I also say that you wear red very well."

 

Yukiko smiled, looking much more like herself now. "I've always loved the colour."

 

Izumi's eyes lowered to the red stone in Yukiko's ring, then her eyes widened when she saw the matching diamond ring on Souji's finger. "Souji," she began after a second of shock. "Could you tell me how you know Yukiko-san?"

 

Souji let out a long breath. It was going to happen sooner or later. "Yukiko and I met when I visited uncle Doujima and Nanako," he started. "We began seeing each other regularly and became close. Before we started going to university, I asked her to marry me when we're done our classes and things have been worked out. She accepted."

 

Yukiko looked like she wanted to say something, but stayed silent. There wasn't much to say in such a situation, after all.

 

Izumi seemed to have a hard time putting her thoughts in order. "That's... quite a step."

 

"That's why we're waiting until school is over for both of us," Souji replied, trying to stay neutral without being rude.

 

It was clear that his mother had a lot of questions, and there was more than a trace of hurt feelings in her eyes. But the businesswoman in her took over and she put a positive spin on it before her emotions could take over. "That's wonderful," she told them with a smile, waving the waiter over to order another drink. "I hope that we can get to know each other between now and then, Yukiko-san."

 

Souji's fiancée smiled sincerely. "Of course, Seta-san. That would be wonderful."

 

"Have you decided on a day? You say you'll be waiting until you both graduate, but what plans have you made so far?"

 

Souji didn't try to speak up. He knew that this was Yukiko's forte, and as much as he had plans of his own, he knew he was about to be trumped.

 

Yukiko brightened and blushed at the same time. "We don't have a day picked out yet, but I'd like something in the spring when the cherry blossoms have bloomed. They're beautiful in Inaba. I'd also like a dress with red in it, if I can manage it."

 

Izumi chuckled. "That would suit you perfectly. I don't hear many brides say they want red for a wedding dress colour, but I don't think anyone could pull it off as well as you do."

 

"There are a number of other details that I've thought of," Yukiko replied, "but many of those depend on other things. But I would love it if the wedding were in the spring."

 

Souji made a mental note to ask Ryoko and Doujima when the cherry blossoms would bloom in Inaba. If Yukiko wanted the wedding when they were blooming, then he'd make sure it happened that way.

 

Their food arrived and the conversation finished the topic of the wedding and moved into safer waters. How Yukiko liked Kyoto, times when Izumi had visited and what had caught her attention at the time, Souji talking about school and his job, nothing risky or dangerous. His mother was, to her credit, treating the whole affair better than he expected. Maybe even better than he'd ever seen before. She talked about her job very little, asked lots of questions, and seemed to be taking a shine to Yukiko.

 

That said, it was easy for him to see her dancing around the things she wanted to ask but didn't because Yukiko was there. More than once he'd seen her looking at their rings before following up with the conversation. Yukiko seemed to catch onto it because she excused herself to use the facilities after they finished their dinner and were thinking about dessert. Before she was out of sight, she sent him a text telling him she'd give him as much time as he needed.

 

"You've found a real gem," Izumi noted, watching her go. "Smart, beautiful, and she seems like a wonderful person. I don't know if you need my approval at this point, but you do have it where she's concerned."

 

"Why are you here?" Souji asked, going straight for the throat.

 

"When were you going to tell me?" she shot back, eyes in a narrow glare. "You and your father have your problems. I understand that. But I'd like to think that we were closer than for me to find out you're seeing someone from Ryo instead of you. And not just seeing her, but you asked her to marry you. I would have liked to meet her before."

 

"You would have gotten an invitation to the wedding," he informed her coldly. "Come on, you can't be that surprised. Do you think father would have let me do what I wanted? He would have tried to hook me up with someone with lots of money and no personality. He's done that more than once."

 

"We want what's best for you," Izumi objected. "You had a hard time around girls after you fell out of touch with Kanashita. You settled on Akamatsu, if I recall, and look how that went; I don't think you even spoke to girls after you broke up with her."

 

Souji blinked. His mother actually remembered his girlfriends? This was the first time she'd said Ayu's name since they'd made that move.

 

"Your track record hasn't been that good," Izumi continued, "so you can't blame us for taking a hand in the matter."

 

"You want what's best for me according to what you want, not what I do," Souji pointed out. "I'm not interested in climbing the ladder like you and father are."

 

Izumi took a few seconds before speaking, anger in her voice. "You think we'd push you into that?"

 

"You've already tried."

 

"Not recently we haven't," she shot back. "I knew it wasn't working for you, so I backed off. I wanted you to have some space and follow your own path in life. Your father and I made mistakes, maybe, but we weren't going to keep trying the same thing over and over if it didn't work."

 

Souji snorted. "Father would disagree. According to him, you didn't make any mistakes in the first place."

 

Izumi glared at him. "Stop bringing him up. You're not a child anymore, so don't act like one. And he's not here. I am, and I'd like to think I deserved better than to be the last one to learn about this."

 

"Well, you're not," he informed her with a frigid smile. "So far you're just the second-last one to know since father's still in the dark."

 

"Don't try to be smart with me."

 

"Come on, Mother, do you really think father would have welcomed Yukiko with open arms if I'd told him I wanted to marry her? She's not connected to anyone in Tokyo, she's going to be managing an inn for the rest of her life, and she doesn't come from a well-respected name if you're not already in Inaba. She's not a good enough match for him to care about, and she wouldn't put up with any of his crap. How can you see that turning out?"

 

"I don't care what your father thinks, Souji," Izumi responded flatly. "Not in this case. If you love her that much, then I would have been behind your decision if you'd told me. I might have wanted you to meet someone who challenged you, maybe someone I was more familiar with, but I wouldn't have dismissed her because of those things. And I'm not going to now that I've met Yukiko-san. She's a wonderful person, and I can see what she means to you, and if she truly makes you this happy, then you have my blessing and well-wishes. Would I say that if I were going to stab you in the back later?"

 

Souji couldn't respond to that. The honesty in her voice took any rebuttal or sarcastic reply away, and as much as he wanted to deny her sincerity, in that moment he couldn't. "You didn't answer my first question. Why are you in Kyoto?"

 

His mother glared at him before letting out a breath. Souji expected her to keep up the argument, but she surprised him by answering his question. "I was on my way to Inaba. I'm visiting Ryo and little Nanako."

 

Souji was glad he hadn't been drinking anything just then. He would have been choking on the floor by now. Instead he just inhaled sharply. "Why?"

 

"I owe them more than a phone call now and then," she notified him archly. "Ryo's my brother, after all."

 

"You've never visited them," Souji pointed out slowly, trying to come to terms with the unexpected turn of events. "Not once that I can remember."

 

She shrugged. "You're still young, Souji. We used to be very close before you were born."

 

"Why now?"

 

Izumi shrugged. "Why not? There's no time like the present."

 

His mother had fewer tells than a professional card player, but Souji knew there was something bothering her. Her voice was too steady to be as calm as she wanted him to think she was. "What's really going on?"

 

She looked affronted that he suggested it, but even that expression lacked the bite she'd had a minute ago. "Does there need to be something going on? Do I need permission to visit relatives?"

 

"It is very unusual," Souji pointed out. "Normally you'd be up to your eyes in customer portfolios and investments."

 

"Does it bother you that much that I'm going to visit them?"

 

"Yes." Inaba was _his_. A special place to where he'd be returning when his schooling was done. He didn't need his parents getting any ideas about going there and causing problems for him.

 

She shrugged. "Well, the plans have already been made. You'll have to live with it."

 

He'd have to talk to Doujima about that. "Maybe, but what's the real reason you're doing this?"

 

There was no reply.

 

"Let me tell you why it does sound that crazy," Souji offered, keeping his tone level so they didn't bother any of the other patrons. "As far back as I can remember, you and Father have lived for your jobs. You missed half my birthdays because of business meetings, I needed the nanny to forge your signature to let me go on school trips because you lived at your offices, and I have been on a first-name basis with your secretaries since I was twelve years old. Now you're taking time off to visit Nanako and Doujima, in person, during the busiest time of the year? And you're taking extra time to stop here? These things don't add up."

 

Izumi was quiet for a while, a dull quality to her eyes as she played with her glass before draining it in one gulp. "Do you believe people can change?"

 

Souji didn't know how to respond to that one. "What?"

 

"People," Izumi repeated. "Do you think they can change if they realize they were wrong about something? I won't deny that my job has been important. It's been what I've wanted since I was younger than you. But I want to try to reconnect with Ryo and Nanako. I'd like to talk to you without us fighting. I've gotten three calls tonight, and haven't taken any of them. Tell me: do you think that people can change?"

 

_No._ It was on the tip of his tongue, ready to be said. _People can change. My friends can change. But you can't. You haven't up to this point, so why could you pull it off now?_ He knew the fight those words would start and it wouldn't have bothered him, but something else stayed his hand. He couldn't deny, even as he thought them, that the words felt unworthy of him. He knew people could change, and while he'd hated Adachi for putting Nanako in danger, he'd spared the man in the end. Same with Namatame and Mitsuo Kubo. Not because they'd been good people, but because Souji himself was trying to be one. He was better than picking fights and making cheap shots on someone when they were down, and what would it say about him and the hell the others went through if he denied the truth that they'd all bled and died for?

 

He grit his teeth. Why did this have to get complicated? Why couldn't this just be easy?

 

"I think people can change," he replied after a moment, answering Yukiko's text and saying that she could come back now. "They have to want to, though. From what I've seen, it's a long, hard road to get there, even if they do take it seriously. Why do you ask?"

 

His mother shrugged. "It's been on my mind lately. Maybe I'm looking at making a change in my own life."

 

Souji wasn't sure how to take that, but with Yukiko's steps and fragrance returning to his side, he decided to be mature about it and raise his glass to his mother and tell her, "then I wish you luck," with neither rancour nor enthusiasm in his voice.

 

She returned the gesture, the light coming back into her eyes. "I appreciate it. Tell me, Yukiko-san, what is little Nanako like?"

 

Yukiko smiled and immediately delved into the words and laughter that the young girl inspired. Even Souji couldn't help smiling at some of the antics Yukiko recounted, and he tossed in a few of his own memories for good measure.

 

"I look forward to seeing her," Izumi said with a smile after they'd finished with dessert. "The last time I did, Chisato was still with us."

 

"She'll love the company," Yukiko assured her. "She's always ready to meet new people, and she's come a long way since I first met her. When you have the time, I'd like to hear more about Chisato-san. Doujima-san doesn't talk about her very much."

 

Izumi's smile turned a bit sad. "That doesn't surprise me. They were very close. The next time we see each other, Yukiko-san, I'll have some stories for you."

 

"I look forward to it."

 

The conversation circled around the young girl who'd been so important to the Investigation Team before Souji checked his phone. "We should be heading back soon," he concluded. "Traffic is going to be a mess, and it's supposed to be cold tonight."

 

Izumi nodded. "You don't want to be sick for Christmas or New Years. Before you go, though, I have a question. What do you think that little Nanako will want as a gift?"

 

Yukiko blinked, but smiled again. "She's quite fond of anything platypus-related. Doujima-san got her a shirt with one on it, and since then she's been quite fond of them."

 

"I'll see if I can find her a doll, then. What do you think, Souji?"

 

A tough question, all the more so because Yukiko was looking at him with curious eyes. Another time when he wanted to blow his mother off or spike her wheel, but simply couldn't. Not when Yukiko and Nanako were involved. "She's always talked about you," he began finally. "I think she remembers you from a past visit or something, but hearing me and Doujima talk makes her ask questions about what you're like. Needless to say, what we tell her isn't much help. I think she'd be all right if you just visit with her and spend time with her. She'll love the chance to get to know you and see what her Aunt Izumi is like. That's what I'd suggest."

 

His mother looked surprised and a bit misty-eyed at his advice. She was probably expecting him to give her a neutral response or mention a toy of some sort.

 

He felt a soft squeeze on his knee, and Yukiko gave a small nod when he glanced at her.

 

"Thank you," his mother said after a few seconds, a smile on her face that he'd never seen before. "I appreciate the advice, and I'll certainly do that."

 

"Are you going to be with them until the new year?" Yukiko asked.

 

"I hope so," Izumi replied. "My circumstances right now are a bit unique, but I'd like to be with them for a while if I can."

 

"Give our regards. Nanako-chan's very important to all of us."

 

"I will."

 

Souji rose from his seat, grabbing his coat. "It was nice seeing you again," he told his mother civilly.

 

"You too," she replied, getting up and coming around the table to lightly hug him. "Would you mind if we kept in touch?"

 

"If you like," he conceded. "You have my number. I can't promise that I'll be able to answer right away, but I'll try and return your calls when I can."

 

His mother nodded. "I appreciate it. I might be a little late, but let me congratulate you on your engagement. Yukiko-san is a wonderful choice."

 

On that much, they could certainly agree. Souji looked at his blushing fiancée with a smile. "Thanks."

 

"It was nice seeing you again," she continued a bit awkwardly. "Perhaps we'll do it again sometime."

 

"Maybe we will."

 

"Pardon me, but could you excuse us for a minute, Souji?" Yukiko asked unexpectedly. "There's some girl talk that Izumi-san and I should have before we leave."

 

Souji raised an eyebrow and looked at his mother, telling by her expression that she had no idea what Yukiko was talking about. "Sure. I'll settle the bill and wait outside."

 

"I'll handle it," Izumi insisted with a wave of her hand. "You had to put your evening aside for me, so let me cover it."

 

"You don't need to do that."

 

"I insist. I won't see you before Christmas, so this can be my gift to you both."

 

"We'll accept that," Yukiko told her. "Thank you."

 

"Take as much time as you need," he said to Yukiko before bowing once more to his mother and leaving, stepping around patrons until he was in the hotel lobby. He went over to the window and stared out, letting out a huge breath.

 

That could have gone better. It could have gone worse, sure, but he wasn't expecting it to nosedive into an argument that quickly. She might have had a point about him keeping the engagement to himself, but he'd had his reasons, and there was still the matter of his father to contend with. There was also the fact that his mother knew more about him than he expected, but he pushed those thoughts to the bottom of the pile. He'd had a busy enough night without picking at old wounds.

 

"Thanks for waiting," Yukiko called to him when she was close enough, circling his arm with her own.

 

"That didn't take very long," he noted.

 

She shrugged. "I only had a few things to say, and I didn't want to leave you here, on your own, while we talked until I texted you."

 

Souji grimaced. Her tone wasn't hard or judgmental, but it had been a low move on his part to leave her as long as he did. "Sorry. You didn't deserve that."

 

"Did it help?"

 

"We fought. She took the engagement... well, you can imagine."

 

She tightened her hands on his arm a little. "But did it help?"

 

He sighed. "Our problems aren't the sort that can be fixed by arguing and getting things off our chest. I don't know where she's going with this, and who knows if anything will happen. I guess we didn't kill each other, though."

 

"That's a good start," Yukiko noted. "I'm glad you handled it as well as you did."

 

He shrugged, feeling tired from the emotional rollercoaster the day had been. "It's over with for now. I guess that's something."

 

"Come on, grumpy," she laughed as she pulled him to the doors. "Let's go."

 

"Yes Amagi-sensei," he shot back cheekily.

 

It took them close to an hour to get back to their hotel, and during most of the trip Souji stared out the window and contemplated possibilities. Why was his mother going to Inaba? Was it really just to visit Doujima and Nanako? Where was his father and where did that defiance his mother showed come from? Would she look in on Yukiko's family when she got there? How would Yukiko's parents take to meeting her? The questions carried him up to their room where he sat on the end of the bed, thinking them through until he was going in circles.

 

"You're thinking again," Yukiko noted from behind him as she changed. "Thinking about things that I'm not going to like, right?"

 

He smiled. How well she knew him. "Guilty, but I can't help it. I'd love it if it were as easy as flipping a switch, but it's not."

 

"It's new and different for you. I understand."

 

"Yeah, I guess that's it."

 

She came up behind him and took his coat off, kissing the back of his neck.

 

Souji looked to the side and asked something that had been on his mind since they got into their room. "What did you talk to her about?"

 

"Girl talk," she murmured, hands on his shoulders, "like I said."

 

Far be it from him to impose on the esoteric subjects of womanliness, but he wasn't buying it. "Was that all?"

 

Yukiko hummed behind him, moving her hands around to his chest. "I might have also told her that I enjoyed meeting her, that I hope we can talk again, and that she's not allowed to hurt you or cause any problems between us. Her or your father."

 

Souji laughed in surprise at that, imagining how that must have gone down. "You really said that to her?"

 

"Of course," she said with absolute sincerity. "I had to make sure she took me seriously."

 

"Did she?"

 

"I think so. She looked surprised at first, but seemed to take it well. Then she said she was glad that you'd found the right woman."

 

Souji shook his head. Trust Yukiko to find the answer to a problem by just being herself. "I'm pretty glad about that myself."

 

"So am I," she breathed into his ear before hugging him from behind and squeezing.

 

Souji's eyes widened. There was at least one layer of clothing missing between them, and by the time he realize it she grabbed him by the arms and pulled him onto his back. He might have protested, but looking at a stark-naked Amagi Yukiko, wearing only her pendant and her ring, with her hair messy and wild from taking it out of its braid, short-circuited his brain.

 

"It's just us here, and you're thinking about something else," she scolded him with warm heat in her voice. She kneeled next to him and bent down, crossing her hands on his chest and propping her chin on them. "That's not allowed."

 

Souji's higher faculties began to return when she undid his shirt, bedroom eyes locked on his the entire time. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you?" he concluded, leaning up to kiss her and palm her breasts.

 

"Of course," she breathed, leaning into his hands. "I said that I have a lot planned for us while you're here. Nothing's allowed to get in the way of that."

 

"And you'll crush them if they do?"

 

Yukiko didn't seem to hear him. She leaned in for another kiss that was as much tongue as it was lips and pushed him back to the bed. "No more talking," she ordered in a quiet, husky voice.

 

"All right," he gave in, grabbing her by the ribs and flipping her onto her back amidst her laughter. The kisses were harder and longer, and by the time he was naked, she was beaded with sweat.

 

"Don't make me wait," she whined.

 

"Ah ah," he murmured against her lips once he had the condom on. "No talking, remember? Or I'll have to punish you."

 

"How?" she asked, eager instead of apprehensive.

 

Souji chuckled. "You're incorrigible."

 

She lied back on the bed, but Souji gently pulled her up toward him. He kneeled in front of her and set her on his lap, both of them moaning as he sank into her.

 

"Are you okay?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers.

 

"I'm perfect," she replied, smiling in bliss. "There's no pain this time."

 

Souji smiled and gently thrust into her. Like the night before, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in as deep as she could, but this time she rested in close and kissed him without restraint. Her moans and sighs went right down his throat and she pulled his mouth hard against her own, only breaking to breathe. Her breasts were right against his chest, too, rubbing up and down in a delicious sensation that he'd never felt before, but quickly promised to experience more regularly.

 

"I like this position," she told him as her eyes started to go unfocused.

 

"Me too," he grunted, thrusting harder. He didn't want it to end, but he couldn't help it. She felt too incredible.

 

She seemed to be feeling the same way, because she tightened her legs around him and bucked into him faster and harder, her pants becoming whines until she let out a long, shuddering moan, kissing him as she hit her peak. He wasn't far behind her, gritting his teeth until the wave of euphoria slowly passed.

 

"That was terrific," he said finally, stroking up and down her back.

 

"You too," she murmured, eyes half-lidded as she tightened her arms around his neck and leaned forward to kiss him, then keep on kissing him.

 

He wasn't sure if she wanted to go for another round, but from how gently she was going, it didn't seem like it. He returned her kisses and ran a hand through her hair, luxuriating in how close she was.

 

"I like this position," she repeated, kissing him more. "Everything's right where I want it."

 

"Glad you approve," he noted, slowly shifting around so that they could fall over sideways and hit the pillows together, her eyes and exquisite face in front of him the whole time.

 

She smiled and took his left hand in hers, and when he looked down, he saw their rings touching, connecting and forming a sideways figure-eight. There were no words for the potent cocktail of emotions in him then, and instead of trying to speak, he wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her close, touching their foreheads together as they kissed.

 

Things were changing. They were outside of his control and that had scared him before. Not now, though. He was ready to face whatever came next in this life with her, and he knew for certain that no matter where he ended up, he wouldn't be alone again.


	30. Chapter 30

 

Izumi stretched as the train pulled to a stop in Inaba. Contrary to the sleek rail line that had taken her from Kofu to Kyoto, the service out to Inaba was comfortable but strictly functional. She hadn't needed to reserve a seat because the number of people on her train car was so few, even with the holidays fast approaching, that she had the whole row to herself. Was Inaba this rarely travelled to? Or was she just lucky?

She stepped out of the rail car once she got her bags, one of which held Nanako's Christmas present. The train platform had been swept clear of any snow, but when she looked around to take in Inaba, the only words that came to her mind and lips were, "There's... nothing here." The lights and spires of Kyoto and Tokyo were replaced with aged trees and a mountain in the distance, and she couldn't see any buildings that were more than two storeys high. The usual noise of traffic was replaced by a persistent quiet that was interrupted occasionally by a distant vehicle, and it took her a moment to realize how almost nothing around her was moving. A few people walked about their business, some turning to wave in greeting, but other than that it felt like the very pace of life had been dialled back from the breakneck pace she was used to. How did anyone under sixty live here? Had it been like this when she'd visited back before Souji was born? If so, had she forgotten what it was like? Was forgetting this sort of placidity even possible? It felt like this should be a retirement community, or a centre for museums and preserved artifacts.

She shook her head with a rueful smile. No, it wouldn't do to think like that. Placid or not, this place had Ryo and Nanako. It had housed Souji for a year, and Amagi Yukiko was originally from here as well. There was clearly more for her to see than what was at the train platform, even if she wryly wondered just how much more there could be since the forests didn't look all that far away. Even if the town was small, that said nothing about the people residing in it. She heard a vehicle pull to a stop nearby and turned to see two people exit. She smiled when she saw her brother approach the platform. "Thank you for coming to pick me up," she told him when he was close enough. "I'm sure you had other things to do today."

Ryo shrugged, brushing her concern off with a wave of a hand. "Family's worth a bit of inconvenience. Welcome to Inaba. How was the trip?"

"Quieter than I expected," Izumi reported. "But that's not such a bad thing at this time of year." She looked at the girl who had just stepped up next to Ryo and smiled. Given how much the girl looked like Chisato, there was no doubting who she was. "Hello Nanako. How are you?"

The girl beamed and came up to her, bowing politely. "I'm really good, Aunt Izumi. It's really nice to see you. Can I help you with your bags?"

Izumi was a bit taken aback by the girl's offer, but it only made her smile more. "I wouldn't want to impose on you like that, Nanako. I can handle them."

Nanako puffed herself up a bit, smiling. "It's not an impos- impossi- Ahem. It's not a problem, Auntie. I can carry one of the lighter bags for you."

"And you can give me the heavier ones," Ryo offered, stepping up next to his daughter. "You're on vacation, so let us help out."

Izumi gave in when she saw the sincerity in Nanako's eyes, handing her the lightest bag and offering the others to Ryo. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"No problem, Auntie!" Nanako declared, shouldering the bag and carrying it easily.

"Like Nanako said. If you want, we can go home now," Ryo informed her, nodding to where his jeep was parked.

Izumi nodded. "Gladly."

"You can have the front seat, Auntie," Nanako offered as they put her bags in the back of the vehicle. "Guests always get the front seat."

Izumi laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. The girl was a gem, her maturity showing in spite of her age, and she resembled her mother more and more. Chisato had always believed in generosity and propriety, and while Izumi hadn't always seen eye to eye with her sister-in-law, it was clear that her strongest traits had made it to her daughter. "Actually, I have an idea," Izumi replied. "How about we both sit in the back? I haven't been here in a very long time, so maybe you could be my tour guide and tell me about Inaba and what's been going on."

Ryo gave a smiling, suffering sigh while Nanako lit up even more. "Sure!" the girl agreed immediately. "That would be a lot of fun! Does that mean you'll tell me about where you and Big Bro come from?"

Izumi blinked. Who was that? "Big Bro?"

"She means Souji," Ryo supplied. "It seems being cousins wasn't enough, so they're brother and sister now. It only took him about a month to make it happen."

"I see," Izumi replied before nodding. "Then yes, I'll tell you a few stories, and we can talk about him and how he's doing."

Nanako nodded and courteously opened the door for her aunt before scampering to the other side of the jeep, leaping into her seat and buckling in before Ryo had opened his door. Even before the vehicle started moving, she immediately began talking about how Souji had become her older brother, about his friends, and about the things they had done together. Some of the people Nanako mentioned sounded like an interesting sort. "Teddie" was a particularly curious name. "Who are you referring to when you mean your "Big Sis," Nanako?" Izumi asked as they turned the corner onto a residential street sporting almost no traffic.

"Big Sis Yukiko," Nanako supplied. "She told me that her and Big Bro are going to get married!"

Izumi chuckled, a bit in disbelief and a lot in warmth. Amagi had seemed like a wonderful person from what little she'd been able to see in Kyoto, and Nanako gave only glowing reviews of the woman, even compared to all of Souji's other friends. That was encouraging. "They sound like amazing people."

"Yep, they are! Teddie, Kanji-san and Naoto-san are still here, and Chie-san, Yosuke-san and Big Sis all went to Kyoto. Naoto-san said we could meet up and go shopping before Christmas, too!"

"Maybe you could introduce some of them to your aunt, Nanako," Ryo suggested as he glanced in the rear-view mirror. "I'm sure they'd love to meet her too."

"Oh, me too! Good idea, Dad!"

Izumi didn't have time to question the specifics of that before Ryo pulled the jeep into a driveway and announced, "we're here." The house they were parked in front of was familiar enough for her to know she'd been here before, but none of the details on the interior came to mind, which was a bit unusual for her. Ryo and Nanako helped her with her bags and led her into the house, Nanako still talking about the various friends she had at school. "Let's get your aunt settled in upstairs, Nanako," Ryo suggested after they took their shoes off. "Then we'll start thinking about dinner."

They led Izumi up a set of broad stairs and opened the door at the top for her. "This was Big Bro's room," Nanako supplied. "But we thought he wouldn't mind if you used it while you were here."

Izumi's breath caught as she entered the room. It had all the signs of a thorough cleaning, but there was still the lingering sense of something here. Maybe it was a trace of his scent or the worn look to the couch in front of the TV, but somehow the room that felt like her son. And yet it didn't. When she'd gone into his room in Kofu or Tokyo or any of the other places they had lived, he'd left behind a certain feeling to them, like the smell of the new pages of a book or the shavings of a freshly sharpened pencil. This room felt different, familiar yet foreign, and she wasn't sure that she understood what those differences were, or if she could articulate them if she tried. "I appreciate it," she told them quietly.

"Do you need some time to set up and get changed?" Ryo asked, his eyes and voice still steady and guarded. In the car and in the house, his answers and comments had been rather short and functional. Izumi couldn't get much of a read on him or what was going through his mind, but she knew they were going to have to sit down and talk. There was a lot to be said, after all. "We can leave you alone if you need some time," he continued.

The offer was tempting, but she'd just spent hours sitting on a train. She wanted to be up and moving, even if it was just around the house. "That's fine. I'll be down in a minute."

Ryo nodded and nudged Nanako down along with him, leaving the door open. Izumi moved her bags into the corner and checked the closet for the futon, noticing some boxes stacked in the corner. In kanji that was a bit crooked, probably because it was Nanako's writing, she could make out the words "Big Bro's Stuff" written in marker on the side. Souji's things, it seemed. She would have to ask Ryo about that when she had the chance.

She closed the closet door with a sigh, looking at the work desk in the corner. What was she doing here? How was she going to make any of this work? What had started off as a trip to see her brother and niece again had become a pilgrimage to understand her son, the result of last-minute planning and an encounter of uncanny coincidence. When she'd been in Kyoto, seeing him dressed sharp with the young woman in red on his arm, she felt the need to prove him wrong about her intentions and her place in his life. She wanted to learn more about him and Amagi Yukiko. Coming to Inaba to accomplish those things while also reconnecting with Ryo and little Nanako had been the most logical course of action, but now that she was here, she realized she was out of her element. She didn't have any contacts here, no friends or associates to call on. She wasn't even sure what Souji's friends, all the people Nanako mentioned, knew about her. Had Souji talked about his family and parents much? Would they know her if they saw her? Or had he said nothing at all and made the most of his time here? She didn't know which option was more daunting.

The lack of direction brought some comfort to her, and she smiled as she looked out the window. She'd been here, in situations like this, before. She'd started her career in circumstances like this: out of options and no other way out, the only way to go was straight through. But this time she had more to go on than when she'd started at the job that would become her career. She knew what Yukiko's last name was, and Ryo was certain to know some things about Souji and the goings on of her son's life during his time here. All she had to do was get in touch with these people she didn't know, introduce herself without knowing what had been said about her before now, and try to learn more about her child, who probably wanted her to be anywhere else in the world right now. She also had to mend her bridges with a brother who hadn't seen her in years and get to know a niece who didn't know her at all in a town that was completely new to her. She chuckled in genuine good humour. Yes, not a problem at all.

She went downstairs to see Nanako and Ryo talking at the kitchen table. "I'd like to walk around Inaba, if Nanako has the time to show me around," she told them. "Were there some particular places that Souji liked to visit?"

Ryo gave her a long, analytical look, but Nanako jumped at the opportunity. "Sure!" she piped up. "I can show you around, Auntie."

"If you're going downtown, you can pick up something for dinner," her brother told them. "Packaged food will be fine, Nanako."

"But Auntie's here!" Nanako protested. "We should do something special for dinner. Big Bro showed me how to cook before he left, so I want to make something."

Izumi chuckled. She was beginning to doubt that there was anything Nanako wouldn't do for her now that she was here. She made a note to get the girl something else for Christmas while she was here. "I'm not that bad in the kitchen anymore, Ryo. I'll help Nanako with whatever she wants to make. It will be delicious, I promise."

He looked at them both a bit skeptically then shrugged with half a smile. "Then do whatever you want. I look forward to it."

Nanako nodded and turned to Izumi. "C'mon, Auntie, let's go!"

Izumi chuckled and went to get her shoes, following her little niece into Inaba. They opted to take the bus to the shopping district first. Nanako mentioned the chance to stop by the local Junes, and the way her face lit up made Izumi promise to add that to the list of destinations before the day was over. "Big Bro and the others always used to meet there," Nanako told her. "They'd do homework and study for tests and it was a lot of fun!"

Izumi smiled and looked out the window, thinking of how Souji must have adapted and changed to have made such good friends. Before coming here, she'd have thought that him being so far from the city would have driven him crazy. Now she was wondering if Inaba suited him better than she expected it would.

"Here we are, Auntie," Nanako informed her, getting up as the bus stopped. "Where do you want to go first?"

"I wouldn't know," Izumi replied gently. "I don't think I came to this part of town the last time I was here, and that was quite a long time ago."

"Have you been busy with work? Is that why you couldn't come out before now? Dad's like that sometimes, working hard and helping people, so sometimes he comes home late."

Izumi was about to reply, to tell Nanako that yes, she'd been busy with work. But the words stuck in her throat. After thinking of Souji and how little she'd seen him change until it was right in front of her, seeing Nanako for the first time that the girl could remember, blaming her absence on work felt like a hollow excuse. It made her think of Junko and the twisting spiral the poor woman was in, and how the first time she'd seen the woman in years was when things were at their worst. She sighed, but refused to make excuses. She'd worked out her words and contingencies on the train ride here, so it was time to make good on them. "It's not that simple," she said instead. "There's no good reason for not keeping in touch. But I'll be here for Christmas and New Year's, and I'm going to try and keep in touch more."

If Izumi was expecting skepticism, she would be disappointed. Nanako just beamed up at her, trust and affection clear as the sky above. "Okay, Auntie! Can I have your phone number so I don't forget?"

"Of course," Izumi replied, pulling her phone out and setting up the infrared to send the girl her number. Once she received Nanako's contact information, she took a few extra seconds to place it under the sparsely populated "Family" folder in her phone. She didn't want to lose the number amidst all of her business associates and normal contacts.

"Oh, hi Naoto-san!" Nanako called suddenly.

Izumi looked to where Nanako was waving to see a young woman in a blue winter coat and blue patchwork slacks approaching them. As she got closer, Izumi could see that her hair was a wavy cobalt colour, and she wore a police officer's cap of the same shade.

"Hello, Nanako-chan," Naoto-san greeted as she got closer. "What are you doing today?"

"I'm going shopping with Auntie Izumi!" Nanako proclaimed excitedly, looking up at the adult in question. "She's Big Bro's mom, and she just got here today."

Naoto-san's eyes widened a little as she met eyes with Izumi. "Senpai's mother? That's rather unexpected." Then a hospitable smile spread across her lips. "Welcome to Inaba, Seta-san," she said with a respectful bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You as well, Shirogane-san," Izumi replied, remembering Naoto-san's full name from Ryo and Nanako's recap of the company Souji had kept. The girl, or rather young woman, sounded quite smart. It was easy to imagine that she got along with Souji swimmingly.

"Please, just Naoto will be fine. Friends and family don't need to be so formal."

"Thank you for the courtesy, Naoto-san," Izumi replied. "In return, please call me Izumi."

She looked a bit hesitant at the request, but nodded after a moment. "If you're okay with it, then I'd be glad to, Izumi-san."

"Auntie," Nanako piped up, "did you know that Naoto-san's a famous detective? Her and Dad work together a lot!"

Naoto-san chuckled. "I doubt I could call myself famous, Nanako-chan. That's a bit of an exaggeration. I will say that I do work closely with the police department, and Doujima-san and myself have collaborated on several cases since I moved here."

Izumi smiled, liking her already. "I can respect that. I don't expect that a young woman doing detective work would blend in, but you've stuck with it. That's admirable. If I may, how do you like working so closely to Ryo?"

Naoto-san blinked for a second before clearing her throat. "Forgive me, it just occurred to me that you must be Doujima-san's sister to refer to him so familiarly. Hearing anyone call him that is a bit jarring. To tell the truth, it has been a novel and educational experience. Many within the police department resent my involvement in their cases, and Doujima-san was no different at first. But in recent months he has been much more accommodating. I suspect that Senpai had a hand in that, though I have no proof as of yet. Regardless, I have learned quite a lot from Doujima-san. He's a credit to the trade."

Izumi smiled. It was nice to hear that Ryo was connecting with people. Of anyone, she knew how stubborn, even intractable, her brother could be at times. It was odd that he'd choose to associate himself with teenagers, but if Souji had made friends and if Nanako consorted with them, then he wouldn't have had a choice. Perhaps the experience had been good for him. "To change the subject a bit, I get the impression that you knew Souji quite well. Is that an appropriate assumption?"

"I would never presume to say that I know someone well, Izumi-san," Naoto-san explained after a moment to consider her words. "Especially Senpai; he's always been a rather private person. But I believe that he and I have a strong rapport, the same as he had with all of us, and I consider him to be among my closest friends."

"When you talk about 'us,' you're referring to Amagi and Satonaka and the others?"

"That's correct. Our group was Hanamura Yosuke-senpai and Tatsumi Kanji and Kujikawa Rise-san and Teddie, along with myself and Yukiko-senpai and Chie-senpai."

Rise-san's name surprised Izumi a little. "You know Risette? Souji said that they were friends, and I think he mentioned having met her here in Inaba, but I wouldn't have guessed that she knew you and Amagi."

Naoto-san paused for a moment, hesitation coming over her features. "We know each other, yes. We keep in touch even now. We became acquainted through school and spent our time together after class," she said, a bit careful with her words. "It's no surprise that Rise-san would look for Senpai if they were in the same area. She thinks quite highly of him. If I may ask, Izumi-san, what brings you to Inaba? Are you visiting Nanako-chan and Doujima-san for the holidays?"

"That's a large part of it, yes," Izumi confirmed. "It's also been a long time since I was here, so I felt that it was time for a change of scenery, you might say."

"Of course. Well, I'm sure that Nanako-chan must be glad to see you."

Nanako grinned. "Yep!"

"Do you have business in this area, Naoto-san? If you have the time, could I ask you more about Souji and what he did while he was here?"

The young woman looked at her, curiosity in her eyes. "You want to know about Senpai? If that's the case, then wouldn't you be better off asking him directly? If you are curious about his experiences and the friends he made, then he's the only one who could give you that information."

Izumi smiled. As predicted, Naoto-san was quite sharp. It made sense why she was a detective. "I agree, but it's more that I'd like to have an idea of what he did here. He was very quiet about his friends and what he did while he was here, so his father and I assumed that he'd just spent his time going to school and reading like he always does. To learn that he's made so many friends and even has a fiancée now is a surprise. I'd like to hear about what he's been up to while I'm here."

There was a trace of understanding in Naoto-san's eyes and a sincere smile on her lips, but the look didn't match her sharp, analytical gaze. It was a few seconds before she answered. "I don't mind sharing some things with you, Seta-san. I respect Senpai and his privacy, however, so some things you will need to speak to him about directly."

"I understand. I appreciate anything you can tell me, and I want to thank you for your time. I hope we're not keeping you from anything."

"Not at all. As you inferred, I have business here and I can always make time for Senpai. Nanako-chan, could you come here for a moment?" Naoto-san knelt to straighten the girl's winter coat when she approached, leaning in close to say something too quiet to hear. Nanako sounded curious about whatever was being said, and Naoto-san finished with what sounded like, "don't want to worry her," before standing and holding her arm out to the shopping district. "Senpai knew a lot of people in the area. They still speak of him quite often, so I'm sure we'll see some people who could answer your questions. Shall we go?"

Whatever Naoto-san told Nanako hadn't changed the girl's disposition in the least. Izumi was curious what that had been about, but she wasn't going to push it. It was clear that Nanako was close to many of Souji's friends, and it only made sense that they would have things going on that had nothing to do with a recently arrived relative. Knowing that her little niece had such friends brought a smile to her face.

There were indeed quite a number of people in the shopping district, and when Naoto-san and Nanako referred to her as Souji's mother, even more appeared to greet her, offer their well-wishes to Souji, or pay their respects for the holidays. The people who spoke to her were especially eclectic, from housewives to handymen to hospital staff, but they all seemed to think the world of Souji. Naoto-san and Nanako answered what questions she couldn't and spoke for her when she was busy with others. For as many people as there were, she compiled as much of what was being said as she could. By the time they were finished and the people had gone on their way, she had a clearer idea of what he'd done while he was here, and she was again surprised. She'd expected him to keep to himself while he was here, but it was sounding like he'd become quite the social butterfly.

"Seta-san?" a young man with pale hair inquired, looking up from some paperwork he was looking over as he passed. "Are you Souji-senpai's mother?"

"I am," she replied. "You knew him as well?"

Izumi couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard Naoto-san take a sharp breath next to her. Was the girl not feeling well?

"I did," the young man confirmed. "I'm Konishi Naoki. I wish I had more time to talk, but if you could send my regards to Senpai, I'd appreciate it. I don't know if I'll have the time to get in touch with him, what with the holidays coming up."

"Of course, I'd be glad to. Konishi-kun, was it?"

"That's right. Please let him know that I'm still grateful for what he did for my sister."

Naoto-san's smile turned a bit guarded, but she said nothing. She just rested a hand on Nanako's shoulder while Konishi-kun looked a bit confused when he looked at her.

"How well did Souji know your sister?" Izumi inquired.

"I don't know if they met. She was murdered a little while after he came here."

Izumi couldn't breathe for a moment. Had she heard right? Murdered?

Konishi-kun continued, looking a bit sad as he continued but his smile was genuine. "Senpai helped me work through what happened to her, and I understand that he helped catch her killer. That means a lot to me and it helped my family more than I can say, so if you could tell him that I haven't forgotten that he helped me, I'd appreciate it."

Izumi had no idea what to say. A murder? And Souji helped this poor boy? How had he gotten involved in something like that? "Of... of course I'll pass that on."

"Thanks, and I apologize if that came from nowhere."

"No, not at all. Think nothing of it. If I don't see you before then, happy holidays."

He tipped his head in a nod and continued up the street, and Izumi watched as he left. He had to be younger than Souji, but he'd borne such a tragedy so early in life. Not only losing a sister, but her being murdered? How had he managed? And what had he meant when he said that Souji helped catch the culprit? "Naoto-san," she began, turning to look the young woman in the eye. "What did he mean by that? How was Souji involved in a murder investigation?"

Nanako scratched her cheek, not seeming to know what to say, while Naoto-san returned the look with a steady gaze. "I suspect that Konishi-kun meant exactly what he said. Inaba was stricken with several murders while Senpai was here. Three, if you want a specific number. The unusual nature of these deaths was such that the police weren't able to solve the case without help, which is why I got involved. Senpai was connected to the case because he saw the body of Konishi Saki, Konishi-kun's older sister, and because of Doujima-san's status as the case's lead detective."

Izumi felt sick at the thought of her son seeing a dead body, especially that of someone his own age. "He saw all that? Murders and a police investigation?"

"That is correct," Naoto-san continued in a dispassionate tone. "He and the others, myself included, were parties to the investigation."

"Why on earth would he get involved with that?"

"The circumstances were such that he didn't have a choice, I'm afraid. He got involved without being aware that he had. Doujima-san and I did all we could to keep him out of the case, but by then it was too late."

Why hadn't Souji mentioned any of this? Why hadn't Ryo? Why was she learning about this now instead of earlier? "Was he hurt or in danger?"

"I can't comment on that, I'm afraid," Naoto-san replied flatly. "You would have to speak to Doujima-san about that."

That sounded like an evasion. Naoto-san was answering like she knew the questions were coming and worded her answers accordingly. "You were involved, by your own admission, and you're right here. Why can't you tell me?"

"Because I wasn't here for all of it. What I've told you is mostly due to the reports I read when I came here. The murders happened months before I arrived, so I can't say what Senpai might have gone through in that time."

Izumi let out a shuddering breath. So much for this being a sleepy little town. Murders? A dead high school student? She wouldn't have guessed. "I'll have to speak to Ryo, in that case," she noted. "No one told me about this."

"Then I apologize," Naoto-san told her. "I had assumed that someone had apprised you of the situation, and such things aren't very novel for me as I'm sure you can imagine."

"It's not your fault. I'm sorry if I came across a bit strong. It's not every day that you hear about something like that."

"Of course, I understand."

Izumi looked down at Nanako, who was shifting from foot to foot, and felt bad. The poor girl must have thought they were arguing or that she was in trouble somehow. "Everything's fine," she told her niece with a smile. "Let's continue with what we were doing, all right? Was there anyone else you wanted to introduce me to?"

Nanako nodded and seemed like she was about to say something, but then turned and let out a startled, happy "Oh," before looking both ways to cross the street. "Kitsune-san! Hi!"

Izumi looked to where Nanako was waving, expecting someone else that the girl knew, but her heart tripped when she saw a full-grown fox wearing a bib cantering toward her. "Nanako!" Izumi called. "Stay away from it!"

"It's all right, Izumi-san," Naoto-san assured her, a hand out to slow her down as they went to where the girl was waving the animal over. "We know that one and it's quite friendly."

Izumi glanced between Naoto-san and Nanako, struggling with her impulses. On one hand, the fox was bedraggled and dirty and could have been carrying gods knew what diseases. Junko had been bitten by a fox on a camping trip when they'd been much younger, and she'd suffered an infection that had taken weeks to break. On the other hand, Nanako was smart enough to know to stay away from anything unsafe, and Naoto-san watched her like an older sister might. "If you're sure," Izumi replied after several seconds, letting out the breath she'd been holding as they followed her niece.

"I am. I apologize if that startled you. We've been around the fox for so long that we've become used to it."

Indeed, something that should have been dangerous became quite benign. The fox sat and yipped happily, kicking its hind leg as Nanako scratched it under the chin and behind the ear. "That's unusual, isn't it? Foxes aren't pets."

"Nor is this one," Naoto-san assured her, "but it seems quite familiar with people. Senpai talked to it like it understood what we were saying, and given how it responded, I'm convinced that it did. I promise you that it won't hurt Nanako-chan."

Izumi looked at the young woman in disbelief. "Souji played with a wild fox? And spoke to it like a person?"

Naoto-san chuckled. "It sounds rather strange when you say it like that, I agree. But after a while it became commonplace, and the fox knows all of us now."

"Kitsune-san's nice, Auntie," Nanako insisted. "Want to pet him?"

"I'm not sure if that's wise," Izumi hedged. A friendly wild animal was still a wild animal, after all. The fox, unaware of her reservations or uncaring of them, looked at her and trotted over, sniffing the air as it approached.

"He won't bite you," Naoto-san assured her, crouching to stroke the fox's fur.

The animal slowly stepped forward as Izumi cautiously crouched with the girls, hand outstretched the way Nanako instructed. The fox sniffed her fingers and palm, its cold nose making her flinch a little but otherwise she stayed still. Once the fox was satisfied, it walked up and unceremoniously plopped its head on her knee, looking up with intelligent eyes. Nanako giggled and clapped while Naoto-san chuckled behind an upraised hand. "It seems the fox approves of you," she told Izumi. "It acted like that around Senpai too. I don't think anyone else could get it to do that, and Teddie tried quite hard from what I hear, even trying to bribe it with food."

Going against her instincts, Izumi lowered a cautious hand to the canine's head, softly petting it and running her fingers along its ears. The fox's eyes closed halfway in response, and it moved its head closer to her hand as she continued. "Do I pass, Kitsune-san?" she asked, using Nanako's nickname for it.

The fox yipped twice before pulling away from her looking at each of them as it scampered up some nearby stone steps. Judging from the torii, it was living at or near a local shrine. "Bye, Kitsune-san!" Nanako called after it, waving.

"Souji made friends with a fox," Izumi said to herself in disbelief, smiling a little. "And everyone in town knows him by name. And he was involved with a murder investigation. I thought that him getting engaged without telling me was the strangest thing that could happen."

"He's had his share of experiences," Naoto-san commented. "Would you like to meet another of his friends? One of them lives just up the street here. He might have some time to spare if he's home."

Izumi nodded. She still had her questions, but they could wait until she spoke to Ryo. She still wanted to learn all she could about Souji while she had the chance. "I'd love to. Lead on. Nanako, could you tell me how you know Kitsune-san?"

The girl started talking about the fox and the various meetings she'd seen it attend with Souji nearby. Apparently the animal was seen as a guardian of the Tatsuhime Shrine and was even credited for granting wishes to those who prayed hard enough. Nanako admitted that she didn't know exactly how Souji first met the fox, though it seemed to be shortly after he'd arrived in Inaba.

"Here we are," Naoto-san told them, pointing at a building with the sign "Tatsumi Textiles" next to the door. "Excuse us!" she called as she opened the door and led them in.

Izumi was immediately struck by the vibrant colours of the shop. From the greens of the floor and walls to the many children's toys and cell phone ornaments sitting in rows on a tiered table, pinks and reds and blues all catching the eye. There were scarves and sashes and blouses all around her, hats and winter mitts on polished stands. There were even plush dolls of every size and shape as well, some of characters from the few TV shows she was familiar with. The expressions and dimensions were spot on and beyond what she was used to seeing even in Tokyo. Whoever made all these had an incredible eye for detail.

"Come in, come in," a grey-haired woman in a green kimono called from where she was adjusting some of the merchandise on display. "Ah, welcome Naoto-chan. You're as lovely as ever."

Naoto-san blushed a little, turning to the side while smiling at the compliment.

"And Nanako-chan," the woman continued with a doting smile. "It's always a joy to see you, dear. How are you?"

Nanako bowed politely, smiling as she held her hand out in introduction. "I'm really good, Tatsumi-san. My Auntie Izumi came to visit us so I'm showing her around the town."

Izumi bowed, looking the woman over. Despite her hair being grey, she didn't seem especially old. She stood straight, had a steady voice, and her eyes showed that there wasn't much that she missed. The look was familiar, reminding Izumi of the more successful secretaries and women in business she'd known over the years. The smile of a loving mother concealed both an eye and a mind made for catching the small details.

Tatsumi-san adjusted her wire-rim glasses, her smile turning understanding as she bowed in greeting. "Welcome to Tatsumi Textiles. Would you be Chisato-san's sister or Detective Doujima's?"

"Doujima Ryotarou is my brother," Izumi replied. She didn't expect to run into someone who knew Ryo and Chisato, or at least not so quickly in her trip. She'd have to make some time to talk to Tatsumi-san when she had the chance. "I'm Seta Izumi, Souji's mother. I'd heard that you knew him, and I'm curious about what he did while he was living here."

"I did. A very responsible and respectful young man, always helping his friends and family. You'd be hard pressed to find someone around here who doesn't know him, especially the young people. He had quite a few of the local girls chasing him, but only Yukiko-chan caught his eye." Tatsumi-san chuckled, a canny look on her face. "Such charming young love."

For some reason, Naoto-san cleared her throat and blushed even more.

"But while Souji-kun did spend some time here, I could only help you so much. If you are looking for someone who knew him well," Tatsumi-san continued, "then you would have to speak to my son, Kanji. They met shortly after Souji-kun moved here, and Kanji looks up to him as a friend and as a senpai."

"Does he help in making these?" Izumi asked, looking at the scarves and clothes arrayed around her. "If so, I could set up an appointment to come back later if that would be easier. I'm sure he must be busy this close to Christmas."

"I appreciate the sentiment," the older woman began, rising to her feet. "However, if Kanji learned that you'd come and left without anyone telling him, he'd be quite upset. It would be no trouble to call him out. It's time he took a break anyway."

"If you're certain..."

"I'm quite certain, dear. It's no problem."

"Then I will accept your offer," Izumi replied, nodding in gratitude. "Thank you for your time."

"Not at all," Tatsumi-san told her, giving a knowing smile to the blue-haired woman in the room. "He'd be willing to drop everything to come and see Naoto-chan as well, so it's no imposition."

"Tatsumi-san, please!" the young woman protested, still quite red and not meeting anyone's eyes.

"It's quite all right, dear. There's no shame in being in love."

"T-that might be, but we prefer to keep it to ourselves."

Tatsumi-san held up a hand and laughed, a clear sound that defied any sense of age or infirmity. "As I was saying, Seta-san: young love. Excuse me, I'll get Kanji."

"Of course," Izumi replied with a knowing smile as the woman left the storefront. "Are you and Tatsumi Kanji together, Naoto-san?"

She was still red, coughing into her hand while her eyes were a bit downcast. She sounded like she was smiling, however. "I-it's still a new development, Izumi-san."

"If I may say so, it's clear that you are happy."

Naoto-san's reply was a soft, "I... yes. I am."

"That's wonderful." Much as Izumi wanted to pry deeper, finding the girl's reactions very charming, she knew that it wasn't her place. She still wasn't sure where Naoto-san stood on the matter of Souji and his family, after all. Instead she looked around the store, marvelling at the designs and the beautiful fabric. Fashion catalogues and online shopping had nothing on the merchandise here. Even Nanako seemed taken with the displays, looking closely and being careful not to touch anything. "These are incredible. Does Tatsumi-san make all of these?"

"She makes some of them, though Kanji is doing more and more of the work these days." Naoto-san came up beside her, her smile softer and different from before. "He says it's because she's finding it difficult to work with her hands, but that's just an excuse. He's learned a lot ever since he took a more active hand in what they make here, and he's expanded on what they put out now. The dolls and children's toys are all his, and he's gotten quite good at making clothes too. This is one of his," she noted, running the back of her fingers along a vibrant scarf.

"And this one?" Izumi asked, pointing at a different scarf.

"Hmm... No, Tatsumi-san made this one. You can tell by the stitch patterns and the angle, and... Well, Kanji does it differently."

To be able to tell what her boyfriend had or hadn't made just by touching it and knowing how his mind worked. Izumi chuckled to herself. It was apparent why Tatsumi-san teased the girl when there was a chance to: she opened up in no time and looked genuinely happy when talking about her beau. "Of course. How long has Kanji-kun been doing this? Everything here is amazing."

"That one's sold," a deep male voice told them from behind. "But they're easy enough to make if you're interested."

Izumi turned to meet the eyes of the tallest teenager she'd seen in years, perhaps ever. He was taller than Souji, had defined shoulders and arms highlighted by a black t-shirt with a handmade screaming skull pattern on it, and sported ear piercings and bleached hair. His face was a bit angular and his eyes were sharp, his entire air projecting the image of "not to be screwed with." This was the young man who made these things in the shop? The thought boggled her mind

"Hi Kanji-kun!" Nanako greeted, bouncing over to the young man with even less hesitation than when she'd seen the fox outside.

He smiled at her, crouching a little to get closer to her height. The expression softened his features and made him look much closer to what Izumi expected of an artist. "Hey Nanako-chan," he replied amicably. "Ready for the holidays?"

"Yep!"

His face softened even more, a shy smile spreading across his lips when he looked at the blue-haired girl who barely came up to his shoulders. "Hiya, Naoto."

Her voice was just as soft, and Izumi could see the affection in her eyes as she nodded back. "Hello Kanji."

"Guess what, Kanji?" Nanako piped up, apparently unaware of how saccharine the moment was becoming as she stood next to Izumi and pointed. "Big Bro's mom came to visit us!"

The change that came over the young man's face was even more profound than when he'd caught sight of his sweetheart. He looked at Izumi in surprise, then in enormous respect. "Senpai's mom? That you, ma'am?"

"Ah, yes. I'm Seta Izumi, how do you¬–"

"It's an honour to meet you!" Kanji-kun told her directly, bowing far lower than a greeting to a stranger, or even a respected superior, would demand. "Any relative of Senpai's is more than welcome here."

Izumi blinked then cleared her throat and returned the bow, albeit only as deep as was polite even under the most liberal circumstances. "I... thank you. As I was saying, it's a pleasure, Tatsumi-kun."

"Just Kanji's fine." he told her, scratching the back of his head. "It's... wow, it's a surprise to meet you. I would've thought Senpai's parents were in Tokyo or somethin'."

"We do live in that area," Izumi replied, "but I came to visit my brother and my little niece for the holidays. We were in the area and ended up here."

Comprehension grew in Kanji-kun's eyes, and his enthusiasm dimmed. "Your broth... oh, you're Doujima-san's sister?"

"That's right. You know him?"

Naoto chuckled good-naturedly, hiding her smile behind her hand and turning away when Kanji-kun gave her a look. "Uh, yeah, that's a word for it. We met a few times, then got along better when Senpai moved in. It's kinda complicated."

Given the look of the young man and the nature of Ryo's work, Izumi could put the pieces together well enough. "I see. I hope there's nothing negative between you."

Kanji-kun shrugged. "No, nah, nothin' like that. Just didn't hit it off right away, y'know? How's Senpai doin'? Have you seen him lately?"

"He's doing well, last I saw him," Izumi told him, staving off her unease. The young man's admiration and respect for Souji was palpable, and as odd as it had initially seemed for this to be the sort of person that Souji would make friends with, Kanji-kun seemed like quite a good young man now that she was speaking to him. "He's in Kyoto for the holidays, visiting Amagi."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," Kanji-kun chuckled. "Those two're inseparable."

"I heard that you knew him while he lived here," Izumi began, catching the attention of all three young people. "Could I ask you a few things?"

"Uh, sure. How can I help?"

"Did Souji... talk about me and his father while he was here?"

Three different people gave her three different looks. Nanako looked confused, head tilted to the side and finger up at her mouth. Kanji-kun looked surprised and scratched the back of his head. Naoto-san, oddly enough, only looked inquisitive as her eyes narrowed. "Not really," Kanji-kun replied after a few seconds of thought. "I mean he might've said somethin' to Yukiko-senpai or Yosuke-senpai, they knew him before I did. But when we were hangin' around it didn't really come up. We had a lot of other stuff goin' on, so... I guess we never asked him? At least I never heard anyone bring it up, and Senpai's not the sort to talk much about himself. He was always helpin' us with our own problems."

Izumi smiled a little, not sure if she was saddened that he'd kept those details to himself, or glad because it meant that she would have fewer preconceptions to combat with. It did sound like Souji though, always dealing with the present instead of opening up about his problems. "I see. It sounds like he made some good friends while he was here."

"Senpai's good people. The best, in a lotta ways. I dunno if I can help with your questions, but I'll answer whatever I can."

"Thank you, I appreciate it. I won't take up too much of your time, I know you must be busy."

"That's not problem. I got time for Senpai's mom."

His clear sincerity and good manners made Izumi cover her smile with a hand. It was very clear now that as much as this young man looked like he could be an enforcer for the yakuza, he was actually very polite and well-intentioned. "Then if you don't mind my asking, how did you meet Souji? Did you go to the same school?"

Kanji-kun nodded. "We did, yeah. I grew up with Yukiko-senpai, and he met her an' Yosuke-senpai pretty soon after he moved here. Things happened and we ended up hanging out together. We did it long enough that we became friends."

The thought of Kanji-kun standing next to Yukiko-san presented a rather humorous mental image, enough so that it brought a smile to Izumi's face. "You know Yukiko-san well then?"

"Kinda. We grew up together but didn't stay really close after a while. Senpai moving here brought us back together. All of us, that is."

"In that case, could I ask you about her and her parents? I got to meet her for the first time in Kyoto, and it was a surprise to learn that she and Souji are engaged. I didn't have the time to learn as much about her as I wanted, as you might imagine."

"Oh. Sure, we can talk about that."

"I've also met them while attending some of our gatherings at her family's inn," Naoto-san told her. "I'll add my insight to Kanji's, if you feel like that would help. I'm also sure that Nanako-chan has some experiences with them as well."

"Yep!" the girl chirped. "They're really nice people."

"Anything you can give me would be appreciated," Izumi told them.

"Then let's go to the kitchen," Kanji-kun suggested. "We can talk there."

Izumi followed them down the hall and into a clean and colourful eating area, taking a seat and listening as they talked about the Amagi family. In the time that they spoke, Izumi got as much information as she could on the subject, but the regular divergences into Souji's behaviour and the time he spent with all three of them gave her something more than information. It was clear that Souji had done more than make friends while he was here. Nanako loved him as an older brother, Kanji-kun almost worshipped him, and Naoto-san seemed like a kindred spirit. While he might have come to Inaba to stay with his uncle and cousin as a contingency, he ended up meeting and making an entirely new family.

\---

"So you met Tatsumi and Shirogane," Ryo commented later as she and Nanako were washing their hands and getting ready to make dinner.

"They seem like wonderful people," Izumi replied, pulling an apron on and tying the strings behind her back. Given the size of the apron, she wondered if it was Souji's or if it had been Chisato's. "Kanji-kun especially had a lot to say about Souji. He and Naoto-san are very cute together."

Ryo grunted, a grudging smile on his face. "He's come a long way. Used to be that you couldn't trust him not to do something crazy or get into trouble at the drop of a hat. Once he hooked up with Souji he seemed to mature a little. He helps Nanako with her summer projects for art class whenever he has the time."

"Yep!" Nanako put in, standing on a stool so she could overlook the vegetables on the counter. "Kanji-san's really nice, and everyone at school loves the dolls he makes. He looks scary sometimes, but I think he does it just to keep people away if he doesn't like them."

Izumi smiled, looking at what they were planning on making. Nanako had rifled through some of her things and come up with a recipe, protected by a plastic sleeve, for beef stir-fry and rice. Souji's familiar writing gave notes and instructions in the margins, and the thought of him teaching his little cousin how to cook brought a smile to Izumi's face. "You're probably right, Nanako. That seems like something he might do. Shall we get started?"

"Okay!"

The two of them worked while Ryo watched TV and rested on the couch. At first Izumi had to remember how to cut the vegetables, unused to handling a knife and angling the blade right for the right portion sizes. Nanako helped out with some gentle hints, however, and Souji's notes seemed to be as much for Nanako as for the recipe. Things like, "Remember to cook the hard veggies first and the mushrooms at the end," and, "Start the rice early so it has time to sit," spoke of them having made this dish together more than once. The tone of his notes had a sense of encouragement and pride when she read them, and she wondered what him cooking with Nanako looked like. Had Souji done everything himself and corrected Nanako's mistakes before they were done? Did he allow her to do her share of the work? Had Nanako insisted on helping her Big Bro and asked him to teach her to cook afterward? Izumi chuckled. She truly couldn't say which event was more likely, but they were all quite adorable to imagine.

Nanako was careful around the knives as she cut the vegetables with a look of concentration on her face. Once everything was prepared to her satisfaction, she started talking about the others as she mixed the sauces. "Big Sis always tried different things when she cooked," Nanako began. "She put bananas and coconut in the curry once when Big Bro wasn't looking. And the next morning, Chie-san tried making scrambled eggs in the oven with horseradish."

Izumi blinked, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"Big Bro told me to stick to the recipe and not add anything else," Nanako continued, "even though Rise-chan wanted to mix kimchi with saue... saour... sour kraut?"

"Sauerkraut," Ryo corrected from the couch.

"That's right, thanks Dad. She wanted to add that to apple pie once. She always had the funniest ingredients, but Big Bro and Naoto-san did a lot of the cooking when everyone came over here."

Izumi could only imagine how Souji would have felt about his friends concocting things like that in his kitchen. As little as Izumi could admit to knowing about food preparation and meals outside of the recipes, even she knew that those things wouldn't go together. "Sounds like Souji had his hands full during their parties," she commented to her brother.

"You wouldn't believe the half of it if I told you," he replied wryly. "If we let them cook, it would take days to get the smell out."

"Big Bro let me read some of his recipes before he left," Nanako continued. "He said to follow them to the letter for now, so that's what I do when I cook. Sometimes Dad helps too."

"That's good advice," Izumi told her niece, very glad that Souji had been around to teach her to cook properly. While she was glad that Souji's friends had bonded so well with Nanako, she could only imagine the problems that might have occurred if Nanako hadn't learned to cook properly and Ryo had been stuck with "food" like that if he didn't want to only eat something from the store. She would have been genuinely concerned for her brother's health in that case.

They talked until dinner was ready, following Souji's meticulous instructions and times with the sauce and the cooking heat. In almost no time, they had a wonderful and colourful dinner laid out on the table. While not a perfect recreation, Izumi recognized the flavours and sauces as Souji's cooking, and the tension seeped out as she felt like she was home. Conversation was normal, and she found the change in even the TV program, a trivia show instead of the news and the changes in the stock prices, a welcome change. She brought out the small servings of ice cream that she had purchased after they'd parted company with Naoto-san and Kanji-kun, smiling at Nanako's smiles as she indulged in the treat.

"Thanks Auntie!"

"You're welcome, Nanako." Izumi helped the girl clean up the dishes from dinner, noticing that Ryo had been rather quiet after eating, and even when he'd come to pick her up at the train station. She sighed a little, knowing her brother was waiting for a later chance, probably when Nanako had gone to bed, before they would talk. She couldn't blame him; she'd always tried to do the same thing with Souji when she and Yuuma argued in the past. It was just as well, however. She had some questions and points of her own that she wanted to bring up.

The day must have been draining for Nanako, or she knew her father well enough to guess that he was biding his time, because she began yawning and rubbing her eyes shortly after they finished their dessert. A few minutes later, Ryo had her brush her teeth before he tucked her in to bed. When he came back to the living room, he had an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Did you want to talk?" Izumi asked, ready to take the plunge and address the problem.

"About what?" His tone was steady, but there was an underlying current of tension in it.

"It's been years since we last saw each other. I'm sure we have things to talk about, like Souji."

Ryo's eyes remained unreadable, but he sighed and rubbed his face. "Not yet. Nanako takes a while to really get to sleep, and I don't want to wake her up."

"We can talk quietly," Izumi suggested.

"I can't promise it'll stay that way."

"So we have things to argue about."

He gave her a brittle smile. "It'll probably come to that, yes. I don't have the same problems with you that Souji might, but he became a part of this family, my family, when he was here. Some of the things he talked about need to be addressed."

"Then why don't we go outside and talk there? I have some questions of my own."

Ryo's eyes cracked a little, becoming readable and clear to her. She could see the anger mixing with the affection and stern happiness she'd always known her brother for. Nothing he was feeling and going through came out, though. He let out a long breath and the walls were up again. "We will. But not yet. I spoke to Amagi's parents, they said they'd be happy to meet you whenever you want."

That surprised Izumi. "You called them? Why?"

"They're going to be family at some point. There's no sense in keeping things from them. And besides, you deserve to have a good look at things if we're going to talk. Amagi is everything to Souji, and in case it wasn't obvious, Nanako loves her."

Izumi could see where he was coming from, and knew that his generosity was just a way of delaying the inevitable. Worse, it was his way of indicating that he had a lot to say and that he wanted to give her a fair shot at defending herself. As intimidating as Ryo could be, and as bad as his temper got sometimes, he was always fair in his dealings with people. He'd been like that for as long as she could remember, long before he joined the police. She nodded, knowing that to regret that things had come to this point was meaningless. The days where she could have returned his calls or talked to him more when Chisato died, times when she should have been more present in his life instead of just sending her son to him, those days were over. She was here, now, and she had to manage with what she had. "I appreciate the help. I'll meet with them as soon as I can. Before that happens though, I have a question of my own."

He shrugged dismissively. "Like I said, those can wait."

"This one can't," she informed him directly. "I won't be able to sleep if I don't ask it."

"What is it?"

"What was Souji's involvement with the murders that happened after he got here?"

Ryo was silent and stone-faced for a moment before he replied. "Who told you about that?"

"A young man we met downtown. Konishi Naoki. He wanted to pass on how grateful he was that Souji helped get justice for his dead sister."

Ryo sighed, tapping the table. "I should have expected that. Everyone knows everyone else around here, so it was only a matter of time."

"So there were murders here?"

"Yes." His toned turned emotionless and professional, like he was dictating a report. "Three. A woman who worked for a TV station, the student whose brother you met, and one of the teachers at the school."

"How did Souji get involved?"

"I don't know. He started talking to people, asked around, and before I knew it he was working on the murders with information that even I didn't have. He took it on himself to investigate the case and that brought him closer to what was really going on. What Konishi is saying when he's talking about his sister is that the culprit was a cop who'd been transferred here ¬– Adachi – and Souji helped bring him in. Don't ask me how he did it, because I don't know. There was more going on with that case than even I understood."

The bad feeling in Izumi's stomach was assuaged a little, but more questions popped up with every answer. "What happened with this Adachi? Was Souji hurt?"

"Adachi was convicted of his crimes and is serving his sentence in prison. The case is closed and the loose ends are all tied up."

"Except there are things you don't know, like how Souji got involved and what his part in all of this was," Izumi pointed out.

Ryo shrugged again, as dismissive as before. "Right, there are. But I don't think I'll ever know those things and nothing's gone wrong from me not knowing. Unlike what they show on TV, real cases are like that: sometimes you don't get a complete answer to the problem before you move onto the next case."

"You haven't answered my other question," she pointed out. "Was Souji hurt in all this?"

"I don't know. He doesn't seem to be."

"You never asked?" Izumi asked, a bit incredulous.

"There was nothing to ask about," Ryo told her. "I don't even know what he was doing in the first place. There were no reports of him being hurt and ending up in the hospital, and he didn't mention it if he was. I'm not going to strip search him on a whim."

Izumi let out a breath, asking the question that had been on her mind since she'd spoken to Konishi-kun. "Why didn't I know about this?"

"I tried telling you for months," Ryo pointed out coldly. "You never returned my calls. By the time you did, it didn't seem like it mattered. Either Souji would have told you if he thought it was worth mentioning, or it wasn't important enough to address. Do you actually think he was injured or hurt? Or are you assuming that he was?"

"I'm asking if you know whether he was or he wasn't. You were looking after him while he was here, so don't you know?"

"If he was, he didn't tell me," Ryo told her with a tone of finality. "That's all there is to say about the murders where Souji's concerned. I'm going to bed. Anything else can wait until later."

"I have one last question," Izumi brought up, wanting to get a point in before the conversation ended.

"No," her brother told her flatly.

"Please?"

"I said no."

"I heard you. But I want to at least ask the question first."

Ryo's eyes narrowed, his annoyance showing quite clearly. "Are you going to be like this the entire time you're here?"

"Please, Ryo? I promise it will be my last question tonight."

He growled, but acquiesced. "Fine. What is it?"

"Souji's things are in the room upstairs. Do you think he'd mind if I looked at some of them? Or could you show me some of the things he had?"

"You'd be better off asking him that question," he told her.

"I know. And I'm asking you since this is your house."

Some of the anger came back to his eyes, this time it was enough to colour his voice. "This is where all your problems came from, you know." He looked like he had much, much more to say, but he visibly clenched his teeth instead.

"I don't deny that," she replied simply. "I want to talk to him, but not yet. I just saw him a few days ago and I'd rather know more before we speak again."

Ryo stared at her for several long seconds before shaking his head and turning. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask."

"Fine. Good luck tomorrow. I'm leaving early so I won't see you in the morning." He left without another word, the sound of a door opening and closing barely making it back to the living room.

Izumi let out a long breath and sat at the table, staring out the sliding door window in the gloom and examining everything she'd learned in the day, as well as preparing herself for the next morning. After all, she was meeting the parents of her son's fiancée, a girl she'd only met a few days before.

\---

The next morning was surprisingly domestic. Izumi went through her tai chi movements to wake up and went downstairs to see Nanako busily making a breakfast of eggs and toast, another of Souji's recipes on the counter to guide her. "Good morning, Auntie!" Nanako greeted when she had the chance. She'd heard Izumi come down the stairs and waved initially, but didn't take her eyes off the food she was making. The look of serious concentration on her face was priceless. "Dad already left for work. I made you some eggs."

"That's wonderful, Nanako. Thank you. Do you need any help?"

"Nope! Big Bro taught me how to make breakfast when he came to visit us, and it's almost done."

Izumi looked at what was being prepared and was impressed by the girl's skills in the kitchen. Scrambled eggs and toast, a simple miso soup, and some fruit and vegetables cut into slices on the side of the plates. It was subtle, but she could see Souji's cooking in Nanako's presentation. Souji would put jagged cuts in the fruit to suggest animal shapes when he was younger, and he'd usually arrange the food like it was supposed to be eaten clockwise. She'd never mentioned it to him, finding it much cuter that he seemed to do it without knowing. "Then I look forward to eating it," Izumi said in encouragement.

"It's ready! Here you go, Auntie," Nanako chirped, handing her a plate before joining her at the table, food in hand.

Breakfast was relaxed. Izumi complimented Nanako on her cooking, and the girl blushed and credited Souji almost exclusively for her skills. It seemed that she'd been watching him every chance she got when he'd made the meals and had friends over, and the lessons he'd given her seemed to be very dear memories indeed. "Did you sleep well?" Izumi inquired when there was a lull in the conversation.

"Yep! I heard you and Dad talking, but it didn't bother me that much."

"We'll keep our conversations quieter, I promise."

Nanako shook her head quickly. "I didn't mind. You were so quiet that I couldn't hear very much."

"I see. What do you have planned for today, Nanako?"

"Mai-chan asked if I could come over, but then she said her family was coming to visit. I don't have anything else to do today except for the laundry."

Izumi raised her eyebrow before smiling. Ryo had always been rather hopeless when it came to housework, so it made sense that someone would have to look after the house and take care of the cleaning. He was lucky to have such a dutiful daughter taking care of him. "In that case, do you want some help? I have to meet with Yukiko-san's parents today, but I don't have anything else planned after that. We could stop by Junes and get something for dinner, if you like."

The girl perked up and cheered immediately, and Izumi laughed at the free, unrestrained innocence and vivacity that she had. She deeply hoped that whatever life threw at Nanako, she wouldn't lose that spark.

They finished their breakfast and cleaned the few dishes that were left. Nanako had apparently picked up on Souji's loathing of idleness as well; he always cleaned the dishes when he was done with them rather than leave them until the end. Once they'd gotten changed, Nanako led Izumi to the bus stop and gave some directions to the Amagi Inn since Ryo's directions had been rudimentary at best.

Nanako chattered happily as they rode the bus, and a few of the other passengers greeted her or smiled when they saw her. The girl was a treasure, it seemed, and everyone knew it. When they arrived at the Amagi Inn, Izumi stood outside for a moment to take everything in. The Inn was a beautiful, sprawling place that felt both solid and welcoming. The steps were clear of snow and she could see a well-trimmed zen garden off to the side. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a koi pond somewhere as well. She took a bracing breath, preparing as best she could for something she'd never done before. "Let's go in then," she told her niece as normally as she could, stepping up to the door and crossing the threshold.

"Welcome to the Amagi Inn," a woman in a functional yukata told them when they entered before her eyes lit up on seeing the young girl. "Ah, Nanako-chan. It's wonderful to see you again, dear."

Nanako showed her manners and bowed in return. "Hi Kasai-san. Happy holidays!"

"You as well, dear." The woman looked at Izumi, a measure of understanding in her eyes. "May I assume that you are Seta Izumi?"

"I am. I understand that my brother, Ryotaro Doujima, made an appointment for me."

"That's correct. I'll let Ryoko-san and Katsushiro-san know you are here." Kasai-san smiled at Nanako then. "They're probably going to have some adult conversations, Nanako-chan. Would you like to wait in the garden?"

"I could help out if you like," Nanako offered. "Big Sis told me about what she does here, so I could show guests around."

Izumi chuckled behind her hand while Kasai-san gave the girl a genuine smile. "Let's see what we can give you then. Please excuse me for a moment." Kasai-san went to the phone in the lobby and said something quiet after dialing a number. "They're ready for you, Seta-san. Please follow me. I'll find something for Nanako-chan to do until you're finished."

"I appreciate it," Izumi replied, not surprised that the girl had made friends among Yukiko-san's family and staff. Nanako talked about the Inn and the things she had done in the times when Yukiko-san had invited the others over for a night, and soon they stopped at a sliding door.

"Here you are, Seta-san," Kasai-san told her. "Ryoko-san will let me know when you're done, and I'll bring you to Nanako."

"Have fun," Izumi told her niece, waving as the girl left with the woman. Her talking hadn't stopped, and the woman seemed to be engaged with every word. Izumi took a bracing breath, clearing her mind and working through what she was going to say before knocking on the door.

"Come in," a man said from the other side.

Izumi slid the shoji open and stepped in, shoulders squared as she locked eyes with the pair sitting at the table in the middle of the room. The man had sharp features and dark hair, and the look he gave her suggested that she was keeping him from something important. The woman, classically beautiful in a fine kimono, smiled softly and gestured for her to approach them where they sat. "Welcome, Seta-san," she greeted. "I'm Amagi Ryoko, and this is my husband, Amagi Katsushiro. As I understand it, you've already met our daughter, Yukiko."

Izumi nodded as she took a seat across from them. It was easy to see the relation between child and parents. Yukiko-san had a mix of Katsushiro-san's black hair and steel attitude alongside Ryoko-san's beauty. Their smiles were quite similar, too. "I have. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice."

Katsushiro-san grunted. "When Doujima-san makes a request, it's in one's best interest to listen to him."

"Regardless, I appreciate it. I'm sure you must be busy."

"It's no problem," Ryoko-san told her. "If I'm being honest, this isn't a meeting that we were expecting to have."

Izumi looked between them, feeling like she was at a disadvantage given Ryoko-san's smooth smile. It didn't take her long to guess what the woman meant. "Might I ask why you thought that? And who gave you that impression? Given that our children are as close as they are, wouldn't it make sense that we would meet at some point?"

"We assumed so," Katsushiro-san replied, "and we asked Souji-kun and Doujima-san about that very thing. We were concerned about Yukiko's future, as I'm sure you can imagine. But both of them said that you and your husband were unavailable, so this is a surprise for both of us."

Izumi's eyes narrowed, and she took a moment to form her response past her flickering anger. Souji saying that made sense, but for both her son and her brother to write her off like that got her hackles up. "I can see where they were coming from," she replied with as much poise as she could manage. "My coming here for the holidays was the result of a last-minute decision that probably surprised them, and it has been a long time since I have seen my brother. I also expect that they didn't think I would come this far west. My work usually keeps me busy around Tokyo."

Katsushiro-san grunted. "Pardon my bluntness, but this calls Doujima-san's judgment into question. Souji-kun's as well. We have asked them both about you, about what familial connections Yukiko will be making with this relationship of hers, and everyone we talked to said that you wouldn't be available. Now here you are, and on short notice. It makes me wonder if they are as reliable as we've been led to believe."

Izumi's eyes narrowed, and she switched gears. It seemed that the discussion was going to be blunt and to the point, and playing nice wouldn't get her anywhere. "You're a brave man, Katsushiro-san. You're suggesting that my brother's assessment of the situation, something as close to him as his own family, is flawed."

"This is how I see it, Seta-san," he replied with hard eyes. "We have Yukiko's best interests at heart, and seeing that Souji-kun's family is less aware of itself than we were told is not encouraging."

"My being here doesn't reflect on Souji or his devotion to your daughter," Izumi established firmly. "I've seen how close they are with my own eyes, and I'd appreciate it if you kept such suspicions within reason."

"Maybe. But neither of them seemed confident that we would meet with you. Doujima-san said as much a year ago, yet here you are."

Izumi straightened a bit. That was quite enough of that. "You are well within your rights to be suspicious, but let's not pretend that this is a great enough problem as to reflect poorly on Souji. If his reported absence of my presence was a deal-breaker, you wouldn't have let him get as far with Yukiko-san as he did. That you gave them your blessing tells me that any reservations you had weren't enough to stop them from being together."

Ryoko-san cleared her throat. "Could you explain why they might have said what they did, Seta-san? Their comments, as I'm sure you can see, gave us a certain impression that we have assumed was accurate until now. Now those impressions are being called into question. Perhaps we could hear your side of the story?"

Izumi sighed. "I suspect that they said what they did because they felt that I wouldn't have the time to become involved in his life if I knew what was happening. My husband and I work some strenuous hours. I'm sure you know what it's like."

"That's never stopped Yukiko from telling us what was going on," Katsushiro-san noted.

"Perhaps, but Yukiko-san isn't Souji or my brother."

"It does make me wonder what Souji-kun's family is like," Ryoko-san put in, her voice taking on a colder tone, "if he has so little faith in his own parents. I'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt, Seta-san, but Detective Doujima and Souji-kun aren't the sort to exaggerate or rely on hyperbole. The pictures they have painted don't suggest a strong connection between you, if I may be so bold, so for them to be wrong on this does raise some questions."

Izumi grit her teeth a little. She hadn't expected this meeting to be a flowery affair, but casting aspersions on her son and her brother was not something she was going to take. "That's going a bit far, Amagi-san."

"I apologize that it was necessary to say it then, Seta-san. But my question remains."

"You have nothing to worry about where Yukiko-san is concerned," Izumi stated. "I can promise you that. Souji loves her to distraction, and I have yet to meet a more charming and intelligent young woman than when I saw her a few days ago. Whatever Souji might have said and believed up to now, and whatever our own problems might be, you can be assured of two things: he cares for your daughter above anything else, and he and Yukiko-san have my full support from this point forward."

"You sound like you mean that, Seta-san," Ryoko-san noted.

"I do."

"It's clear that you feel strongly about this, and it's encouraging to hear that you support Souji-kun this much. Might I ask if this has always been the case? It sounds like you hadn't met Yukiko until very recently. Does this also mean that you didn't know about her until very recently?"

Izumi's polite smile went cold at the question. Ryoko-san had delivered it smoothly, but with a precision that spoke of intent. It wasn't a careless comment, and this woman wasn't nearly as innocent as she pretended. "What are you really asking?"

"Just what I said, Seta-san."

"Please don't insult my intelligence, Amagi-san. I came here on the assumption that we'd be having a sincere conversation. I've done just that, and I'd like to think that you would be above petty slander."

Katsushiro-san visibly bridled and Ryoko-san's eyes narrowed, but the woman's hand came out, gesturing for her husband to not interrupt. " Very well. How close are you and Souji-kun if he didn't mention Yukiko until now?"

"We've had some difficulties in the past," Izumi admitted plainly. "Not problems or fights, but Souji has grown up very quickly. His father and I have been focused on our own careers, perhaps too much so. I think you can fill in the rest of the details."

"If that's the case, then why get involved now?" Katsushiro-san asked. "What changed?"

"I want to be more involved with my son's life. This is a better time to start than never, no?"

"You do seem to care for him," Ryoko-san noted.

"Of course I do. He's my son."

Katsushiro-san grunted. "A son you apparently haven't been very close to until now."

"Pardon my bluntness, but that's not a conversation I'm having with you," Izumi shot back, done being nice. "My relationship with him is your business only insofar as it concerns Yukiko-san. The rest is my concern, and I'll thank you to remember that." The Amagis glared at her, but she refused to back down. She wasn't about to let strangers judge her for the decisions she'd made, no matter how connected they were to Souji. Their stand-off continued for several long, uncomfortable seconds before Katsushiro-san's expression changed a bit, a touch of respect in his eyes.

"Souji-kun comes by his stubbornness honestly enough," he remarked, not friendly but not caustic anymore.

Izumi glanced between them as Ryoko-san's smiled returned a little. "He's grown into a very mature and professional young man," Amagi Ryoko observed steadily, quite neutral compared to before. "He's also a bit intractable sometimes. Rather wilful, but he usually sees reason when it's shown to him."

Izumi's eyes narrowed, and for a long half-second, she wondered if that comment was what Ryoko-san thought, or if it was a message to Izumi herself. Was Ryoko-san giving her advice? And why had they backed off like that? Had their questions been a test? Was this some sort of audition for her? Regardless, it wouldn't hurt to be at least cordial with them. Souji would never forgive her if she ruined things with his future in-laws. "I've observed the same thing myself. Might I take this moment to say something?"

"Of course," Ryoko-san granted, keeping up at least the facsimile of grace and propriety. "What is it?"

Izumi knew business relations like she knew her own measurements. It was time to switch gears into something more productive. "Souji did a lot of growing up while he was here; that's clear from the friends he's made. I'd like to ask how much of that was due to his relationship with Yukiko-san. If she helped him become who he is now, then I owe her a debt of gratitude."

Katsushiro-san didn't conceal the flicker of a doting smile while Ryoko-san looked genuinely curious. "You feel like Yukiko helped him mature?"

"Given how close they are, I think it's very possible."

"I don't think that you're wrong," Ryoko-san conceded after a moment. "For all the effect Souji-kun had here, he grew the most when he was with the rest of his friends like Hanamura-kun and Kanji-kun. Yukiko would always talk about them, and the staff would tease her about wanting to learn to cook so that she could impress some boy she'd met at school. They wouldn't let her live it down, especially when he came to visit or when she'd disappear during her breaks so they could have some time together."

"Do you know how they met?"

Ryoko-san nodded, her smile more genuine now. "From what I understand, they were in the same class when he transferred here. Chie might have had a hand in it as well, given how close she is to Yukiko and how outgoing she can be, especially around new people. Yukiko was having a hard time of things, but she seemed happier shortly after he moved here." Ryoko-san's hands tightened on the table. "When I think about it, they seemed closer when the police brought her back home."

Izumi stiffened. Yukiko-san had been involved with the police? She hadn't heard this from anyone yet. "I'm not sure I understand. What do you mean by the police bringing her home?"

"How much do you know about Inaba and what went on here a few years ago, Seta-san?" Ryoko-san asked, her expression and voice a bit withdrawn.

"I know that there were some murders that happened around the time that Souji moved here. My brother and Shirogane Naoto worked on solving the case, apparently."

"That's correct, but that wasn't all that happened. Not only were there murders, but there were also some abductions."

Izumi felt a chill at the implications of what was about to be said.

"Shortly after Yamano-san and Konishi-san were killed, Yukiko was kidnapped," Katsushiro-san told her, the pain clear in his voice even though the event happened years ago. "She was gone for days before the police found her. We have no idea what happened or who did it, but it was shortly after she returned that she became closer to Souji-kun and to the rest of his friends. And she wasn't the only one who hung around with him. It seemed like there was someone new in his group every month or so."

"I'm so sorry," Izumi told them sincerely. Given how much they obviously loved their daughter, it was easy to imagine how hard that must have been for them. "I had no idea."

"We were terrified, as you can imagine," Ryoko-san told her, "but she seemed more herself when she got back. That's when she started spending time around Souji-kun, and things went on from there."

Izumi began to wonder just how many people had been affected by the murders. "If you don't mind my asking, do you know if Souji got involved in the investigation?"

"I couldn't say for certain," Ryoko-san replied after Katsushiro-san shrugged and shook his head. "It would seem strange if he did, being a student. Why do you ask?"

"I met someone the other day who suggested that Souji had played a part in bringing the suspect to justice. I'd like to know what that means, especially if he was hurt in any way."

Ryoko-san shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that. I've heard that some of his friends, the ones he spent the most time with, also went missing after Yukiko did. I suspect that it was just teenagers acting up, especially where Kanji-kun is concerned, but aside from that, you would have to speak to the authorities. It's also hard to imagine Souji-kun being hurt if he was involved. He's quite steady."

"The only time he might have had a hard time," Katsushiro-san added, "is when Nanako-chan was in the hospital."

Izumi looked at him sharply, her heart jumping. "What? When did this happen?"

"Before Christmas two years ago," the man told her. "She seemed to get sick suddenly and had to be hospitalized. I don't know what the problem was, you would have to speak to Doujima-san about that. Yukiko stayed with her as much as she could. Against our advice, given how crazy everyone was around that time."

"I didn't know about that," Izumi replied, beginning to wonder just how much she didn't know about what had gone on in Souji and Nanako's lives. And to think that she'd written Inaba off as a sleepy little town. It seemed like that assumption was getting further and further from the truth. "I'll have to ask my brother about that."

"That would be for the best," Katsushiro-san replied.

"On that note, if you speak to Yukiko-san in the near future, please pass on my gratitude. It seems she's been an important person in Nanako's life, and I appreciate all she's done for my family."

Both Amagis looked at her, probably looking for any facetiousness or subtlety, but Izumi said nothing else. "We will," Ryoko-san assured her, her smile a bit different, perhaps accepting, compared to before.

Feeling like she'd said all that she could, and wanting to end the meeting on a somewhat amiable note, Izumi nodded politely. "I should be going. Nanako's waited for me long enough and I'm sure you have other things planned for today. If I may, I'd like to meet with both of you again if we can arrange it. I'd love to hear more about Yukiko-san."

"Our schedule gets busy during the holidays, but we would love to see you again, Seta-san," Ryoko-san told her, rising and bowing. "This was a productive meeting, and I hope that we can continue our discussions in the future."

"I'd like that. Thank you again," she said as she bowed then turned and left the room. She collected Nanako, who had been carrying dish trays for the cooks and cleaning staff, and pried her away from the smiling men and women who'd been caught up in her enthusiasm. On their way home they stopped at Junes, where Nanako picked out what they'd be making for dinner. As they went through the aisles, Izumi thought about everything she'd learned at the Amagi Inn. Yukiko-san's parents were certainly interesting, and Izumi felt like she'd need a few more visits before she had a proper grasp on Ryoko-san. Contrary to the polite facade that woman put up, she was sharp.

On their way home from Junes, Nanako got a phone call from one of her friends. It seemed that Mai-chan, who'd cancelled on her before, was now available in the evening. After some quick talking and a text to Ryo, Nanako was trembling in joy at the chance for a sleepover with her friend. Izumi took her home to prepare for everything, including a simple dinner for herself and Ryo since Nanako would be gone the next day, and then she walked Nanako to her friend's house. On the way back to the Doujima residence, she spent some time sitting on a bench by the Samegawa river, leaning back to put her thoughts in order. With Nanako out for the evening, she and Ryo would have the chance to talk, and it probably wasn't going to be pretty; their fights rarely were.

It was dark by the time she got home, and she spent her time checking her emails and replying to texts, sending well-wishes to Junko and getting a bit cross that Yuuma hadn't contacted her yet. Surely he could have let her at least know what he was doing and whether there were any new developments on his end.

She was a bit surprised when Ryo came through the door at dinnertime, expecting him to have stayed longer at the office. Either he didn't have a lot of work to do, or he'd decided to come home early so they could have their argument. When she ran the odds through her head, she decided that the second option was far more likely.

"Nanako made it to her friend's house," she told him steadily.

"I know," he replied steadily. "She texted me when she got there."

"I hadn't heard that she was in the hospital while Souji was here," Izumi commented coolly. "Ryoko-san told me about it. I wish I'd known."

He shrugged. "There was nothing to say. She's my daughter, she's better now, and you weren't answering your phone. Case closed."

Izumi let out a breath, letting the layers fall away. Her brother wasn't the only stubborn one in their family. "I'm glad to hear it, though I would have answered a message if you'd told me."

"I didn't get through to you when I tried talking to you about Souji," he pointed out with heat rising in his voice. "There was no point in telling a machine about Nanako."

"Then let's have it," she said with a cold smile, ready for the fight to begin. "We only have tonight to say everything, after all."

Ryo nodded, his eyes as hard as when they'd clashed back when they were both headstrong teens. "Let's start with Souji. When were you going to talk to me about him? Why did it take sending you a picture of Amagi and threatening your secretary to get you to call me back?"

"You were out of line doing that," she pointed out. "Hitomi-chan didn't deserve being chewed out like that."

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not. I'm just saying that you went too far. Regarding Souji, what do you want me to say? I talked to him when he got to Kofu. I asked him what happened when he was here. He made it sound like nothing unusual had happened and he chose to keep everything else to himself. I didn't know about the murders or his friends here and he never mentioned Yukiko-san. What would you have done in that situation?"

"I would have talked to someone who might have known something about the situation," Ryo snapped. "How many times did I fill up your inbox? Wasn't that an obvious enough clue? Didn't you think that I might have had something to say? But instead you blew me off."

"And I regret doing that," she replied. "If I could take it back, I would."

"We talked when he was here, you know. Before he left for university. I tried getting him to talk to you, or to a least tell me what the problem was. He made a big deal about us being a family when he moved here, but as soon as I tried to do the same to him he wouldn't even hear of it. He cut you out of his life, and he's barely an adult."

"I know he did," Izumi hissed. "I saw him in Kyoto and you wouldn't believe how hard I had to work to get him to meet me for dinner. That's when I find out that he's engaged. Engaged, when I didn't even know he had a girlfriend. Do you think I'm proud of that?"

Ryo snorted, crossing his arms. "I don't care if you are. You and Yuuma should never have let it come to that."

"I don't need you telling me that. I screwed up. I know that."

"This goes beyond screwing up, Izumi!" Ryo blew up. "You screw up with clients or your boss or your job, but Souji's your son for Christ's sake!"

"And what about you?!" Izumi exploded right back. "Nanako told me that you were busy with work until Souji came to live here. Chisato meant everything to you, but were you any better, leaving your own daughter alone here while you were buried in your work?"

"Don't you dare bring her into this," Ryo snapped. "Everything I did was to find the bastard who killed Chisato, and to make sure Nanako had a good life, a safe place to grow up. I let it go too far, but it was always about Nanako, and don't you ever say otherwise."

"The effect is the same," Izumi pointed out. "You loved her, but you still left her here alone, working through the night and neglecting her. What if Souji hadn't come here? Would you still be working those hours and missing out on her life? What would she be like if you hadn't changed?"

"My family always came first, even when I was making mistakes," he growled. "Souji was an afterthought for you, wasn't he? Stop making excuses!"

"I'm not! I'm telling you how it is! You're lucky that Nanako's still young and you're so close, but how do you think I feel? Do you think I planned every day of my career around neglecting my own son? I love him as much as you love your daughter. I wanted the best life I could afford for him, even if that meant not always being there for him." Izumi slumped a bit, and her voice losing some of its fire as the memories hit. "I still remember him when he was a baby in a crib, when he showed me the pictures he drew in his room and listened to me sing him to sleep. He was everything to me, and he still is, but they grow up so fast. In no time he was going to school, then he had girlfriends and played basketball. Now he's going to university, working on his own life, and I might have missed that too if things had gone differently."

"If what had gone differently?" Ryo asked dryly. "Why did you decide to come out here? It couldn't have been me harassing your secretary that made a difference."

Izumi let out a breath. She wasn't proud of her work situation, but she'd always been honest with her brother. She let it all out and told him, in detail, about her being stonewalled at work and how her upward progress was stalled indefinitely. She mentioned how Yuuma had gone north for work, how she'd spoken to Junko and seen the woman's ruined life, and how she'd had the extra time to think and catch up on everything.

She could hear Ryo's teeth grating by the time she was finished. "So even now, your work came first. You're here because someone gave you a bloody nose, and if they hadn't, you'd still be there, none the wiser."

Izumi glared at him, not about to take the kicks just because she was down. "And I could have spent Christmas and New Years in Hawaii without putting a dent in my holiday time. I'm here because I want to fix things. I thought I had time to connect with Souji and make it up to him. Hate me for that if you want, I know I made mistakes, but give me some credit."

Ryo growled, but rubbed his face instead of retorting.

That was a sign that he was slowing down, something Izumi recognized from their childhood, so she continued. "I asked Souji this, but I'll ask you as well. Do you think people can change?"

His hands clenched into fists, but his eyes took on a cautious, guarded look. Almost the same as how Souji looked when she'd asked that same question in Kyoto. "What kind of question is that?"

"One I want an answer to," Izumi replied directly. "I never thought I'd be where I am right now, seeing everything that's passed me by, but this is how things turned out. I'm here because I want to be part of Souji's life, and because I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry it's come to this. If I want anyone to take me seriously, then I need to change. Do you think that's possible? Or am I too late?"

Ryo was quiet for several long, uncomfortable moments before he shook his head and pointed at the kitchen table. "I need some coffee. Are you having any?"

Izumi blinked, then smiled. Her brother loved his caffeine fixes. "Please. Two cream, four sugars."

He made the same disgusted face that he always did when he heard that. He preferred his coffee strong and hard, so the thought of that much sugar in one drink probably drove him crazy. They stayed quiet while the water boiled and the coffee percolated, neither looking at each other. But the silence wasn't hostile. Instead it was familiar, a detente that was, again, part of how they'd fought since they were children. With the sharpest words said and both people still in the room, they could talk more constructively now. Ryo served them both and stared into his coffee before speaking. "Things were hard when Souji got here," he began. "You're right. I was in the office all the time, leaving Nanako here. I thought Souji would be a good playmate for her so that's why I took him in, but he was more than that. He made friends and involved her in everything they did, and she came out of her shell before I knew it. She fit in with them, started growing up because of him, and he didn't stop there. Once he saw that she was changing, he started working on me. We had some pretty bad arguments over that. I could tell we were family; it was like I was fighting with you again."

"He does come by it honestly," Izumi admitted.

"He showed me what I was doing wrong, how I was losing out on Nanako's life. He helped me get to the heart of the problem, and I haven't forgotten that. That's why it kills me to see him like this. You and Yuuma did the same thing to him that I did to Nanako, except no one called you on it. What do you think he went through? How do you think he coped with it?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "and don't think for a second that I haven't asked myself those very same questions. Everything I've focused on feels like it's gotten me nowhere, and the price was my connection with my own son. I want to try and fix things before I can't anymore."

"You might have hit that point already, you know," he noted. "Souji might not want you in his life."

"You could be right, but I'm going to try anyway. He deserves that much."

Ryo sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know if you can change. That's on you. It's hard for me to juggle work with the times when Nanako needs me, and I still don't know if I'm doing it right. But you? You've got a long way to go. Whether Souji loves you or hates you or doesn't care, the fact remains that he changed while he was here. He went through a lot with his friends between the murder investigation and Nanako ending up in the hospital. There're some things he won't tell me about, and a lot of things that I don't understand about it all. That doesn't matter though. After everything that's happened, I don't know if he'll let you in. Even if he does, there's a lot to learn where he's concerned."

"Can you help me?"

Ryo shook his head, looking at her with an analytical stare. "I don't know. You're both family to me, but I don't know how serious you are about this. When your job sorts itself out, will you go back to how things were before? What if Yuuma needs you? Will you find another job if you can't figure things out and go back to how you were? Connecting with Souji's not something you can do whenever it suits you."

"I know," she replied quietly. "And I can't answer those questions right now. I can't say what I'd do if I could have my job back the way it was. I love what I do and I'm good at it. But I want to be part of Souji's life again. He's so happy with Yukiko-san, you can tell they're made for each other. I never thought I'd see him like that, and I don't want to miss out on more of his life. What could I say to convince you or him?"

"Probably nothing," he told her candidly, taking a drink of his coffee. "Words don't mean a lot at this point. But if you're serious, then there's lots you can do to make things better; you have a lot to fix."

"I expected as much. So while I'm here, I want to try making those changes. I want to learn as much as I can and see what happens. If nothing else, I want to be more in touch with you and Nanako. I shouldn't have neglected you like I did, and even if I can't mend things with Souji, I want that much at least."

Ryo gave her the small smile that meant his mood wasn't as bad as he wanted people to believe. "I don't have a problem with that. Nanako's getting to be at an age where she's going to start asking about things I can't help her with. Girl things. Amagi's made the offer to help her with that, but more advice can't hurt. If you want to prove that you're serious about this, that's a place to start. And you can keep in touch and phone every now and again; I actually return my messages when someone calls."

Izumi smirked. She deserved that one so she'd let it slide. "All right. I'll try. Can I look at Souji's things now?"

Ryo rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You're still asking about that?"

"If I'm going to make any of this work, I need to understand him as best I can. That's a place to start, right? The sooner I do that, the sooner I'll know what I have to do."

He growled under his breath, giving her sharp, analytical look. "You're serious."

"Of course I am. It's my son we're talking about."

"He's also my nephew," Ryo pointed out, probably regretting that he'd given her any ground in the first place, "and this is a violation of his privacy."

"But I'm asking as your sister and as his mother. I promise I won't say anything about it. Please?"

He shook his head the exasperation clear on his face. "You're impossible, do you know that?"

Izumi smirked in triumph. "Of course I do."

"That's not helping." Ryo let out a heard breath. "I'll meet you halfway. One of the boxes has his books and models in it. You can look at that one, so long as you don't break anything. The other stuff is his. I don't know what's in it, but that's his. The only way you can open that one is if you ask him and he gives me the go-ahead."

"That's all I ask."

"At the rate you're going? Not likely. Give me a minute, I'll make sure there's nothing else in there."

"Covering up for his dirty magazines?"

Ryo blushed a bit and glared at her. "Don't go there, do you hear me?"

Her smirk deepened. "Souji's still a young man, Ryo. I know what boys are like." There was also the fact that he was in a good mood in Kyoto. As angry as he'd been to see her, both he and Yukiko-san had that 'just had great sex' glow about them that no one with functioning eyes would miss.

"I said drop it." With that, he went upstairs. Izumi could hear him shuffling around and moving things for a few minutes before he called down to her. "All right, come up."

Izumi went up the stairs, feeling strangely apprehensive with every step. She was excited at the chance to learn more about Souji, but that didn't stop an equal dose of fear from running through her, and every step made her heart race a little more. She'd talked about getting closer to Souji, but having the chance present itself so soon felt like it was leading her in a new, unknown direction from the road her life had been on.

Ryo was standing at the door, face stony and solemn with understanding showing through the cracks. He looked into the room, silently beckoning her closer. "I have to be up early tomorrow," he told her when she got close enough, his voice quiet like he was paying his respects at a shrine. "Nanako will get home after I leave. If you're serious about helping, look after her until I get back."

"Of course. It's no problem."

He looked at her, his suspicions and questions clear. "We'll see," he muttered, not needing to explain what he meant.

"Thank you for this. I mean it."

He nodded but said nothing as he went back down the stairs, balanced and quiet for a man of his size.

Izumi went into the room and closed the door, one light on and illuminating the things on the table in front of the couch like it was a stage on a set for a TV show. Like Ryo said, there were models and books galore, almost too many to fit where he'd piled them. Izumi's apprehension grew as she approached, and sitting on the couch and taking it all in before she reached over to pick up a well-worn book. It looked like it was used for translations from Japanese to Korean and back, and Souji's familiar writing filled the margins. There were even some loose sheets in the book that fell out when she turned the pages. Most of them were his own notes and comments, but some of the notes were dates and cash values. From what she could see, he had taken on work as a translator and had kept himself sharp with his languages even when he'd been so far from home.

She smiled to herself as she set the book down. Even in a town with a small economy, he'd found ways of making money and supporting himself. Smart as always.

The next thing she looked at was the models he'd made. There were four in total, and they looked like something out of a mecha TV show. When she compared two of them, she noticed that one of them had some light scuff marks at the knee joint where the other one didn't. When she brushed her thumb across it, she felt the texture of glue under the scuff marks. She thought it over for a second before realizing that he'd used too much glue and had tried to correct his mistake. When she looked at the others, she noticed that he'd avoided that very same mistake, and only one other model had any scuff marks at all. She hadn't known he'd had an interest in making models, though it didn't surprise her; he played basketball enough that some manual dexterity made sense.

She set the models down carefully on the table and picked up another book, also well worn. When she opened it, a photo slipped and would have fallen if she hadn't caught it. Her breath caught in her chest when she held it up to the light and saw it. There he was, with Yukiko-san and Naoto-san and the people who could only be his other friends. Nanako and Ryo were there, and it looked like they were in front of the Inaba train station. He wasn't just in the picture by accident like he'd seemed in some of their family pictures or in his school photos. Rather, his smile was genuine as he cocked a hand up in a half salute, looking as happy as the others who were posing for the picture.

The book lowered as she looked at that picture, the same feeling coming over her as when she saw the photo of him and Yukiko-san. This time, however, the sense of disconnect was weaker and the feeling she had in this room began to make sense. Ryo was right. Whatever the cause, Souji had grown up during his year in Inaba and even later when he'd stayed here before going to university. She could see now where he'd started shaping into the man he was working hard to become. The up-swell of emotion became too much and she smiled, almost tearing up as she said the only words that fit what she was feeling: "I'm so proud of you." Her words went unheard in the empty room, and she let the emotions flow through her, for how long she didn't know, until she pushed them down. There was no use for regret or shame now. Instead, she felt determined and set on her course. It had been the right choice to come here, and regardless of what else happened or where she ended up, she promised herself that she wouldn't forget this feeling. It was too important, and it meant far too much to let go of now.

She carefully put the photo back in the book and set everything back on the table, turning the light out. A large part of her wanted to keep going and investigate everything now that she had the chance, but she knew better than that. Ryo had said that Nanako would be home tomorrow and that he wouldn't be around. Izumi would get to look after her little niece again, and she wanted to be rested for that, so she rolled out the futon, changed into her pajamas, and closed her eyes with a last look at her son's things. When sleep came, her mind was still turning over all the opportunities she had. There was so much to take advantage of, and she didn't want to miss anything now.

Author's Note: So, what was your favourite part of the chapter? Izumi vs. the Amagis? Izumi vs. Doujima? Naoto and Kanji? Everything Nanako? Let me know in a review!


	31. Chapter 31

The Christmas holidays were beginning to ramp up in Inaba. The town's decorations were modest but heartfelt as vendors and townsfolk alike got into the seasonal cheer, and Naoto couldn't walk down the street without being called to or offered something from one of her neighbours. Even though she was on speaking terms with many of Inaba's citizens, being seen as readily accessible was still an odd feeling. She'd gotten so used to observing people from the outside that she'd assumed that that was how other people saw her: as an outsider. But since her time with Senpai and the others, she found her facade cracking more and more, and she didn't mind it in the least. She even found herself humming along to the various Christmas carols and stopping to speak to people more often than work demanded, inquiring how they were doing and talking about her grandfather's health, about what her plans were when she graduated, about the local goings-on. It was simple and mundane and very comforting to be able to forget her work for a while and partake in the activities of the season. This year was looking to be especially festive, with the town seeming to have at last shaken off its shock and wariness from the murders.

Naoto had snuck over to Tatsumi Textiles for a pre-Christmas get-together with Kanji and Tatsumi-san. The older woman had been incredibly accommodating, and even more embarrassing when she'd decided to "turn in early" so that the young could "make the most of the evening." Kanji had groused good-naturedly about it, but had nonetheless brought out the snacks and gifts he'd prepared for Naoto. Naoto was touched and warmed from the show of affection, and she sat next to him at the low table to have a nice, seasonal evening with him. She'd even brought over some fresh-baked treats, trying her hand at cooking, and she was relieved when Kanji devoured half of them and praised her for minutes on end on how they tasted. She wasn't sure how much of his praise she should take to heart, however; all she'd done was follow the recipe. Now the lights were dim, the music from outside was cheery, and the evening had an air to it that she categorized as rather romantic in nature. It was the sort of evening that one spent with a sweetheart or a significant other to make the most of the time while it lasted.

That had been what she'd planned, just spending the evening with her boyfriend. However, her mind had chosen this night to pop up with all sorts of theories about Izumi-san and how Senpai was going to react when he learned that his mother had so recently arrived in Inaba. Those theories led her to concerns about when Izumi-san planned to leave, then to questions of how Doujima-san was going to answer any inquiries about the murder, and then back to thoughts of Nanako and how the girl was taking the change in routine. Naoto reflected on whether there was something she could do with the situation, but that very train of thought started chasing itself into circles and led her down useless avenues of inquiry.

She frowned to herself, trying to get back into the mood and enjoy her time with Kanji, especially given her busy work schedule in the new year, but it seemed like every commonplace point of conversation had a word that her analytical side would latch onto so that it could supply her with new ideas. It was getting rather aggravating.

"What's botherin' you?" Kanji asked suddenly.

She blinked, looking over at him. "Pardon?"

"You've got somethin' on your mind," he observed. "Somethin' pretty big, from the looks of it. What's up?"

Naoto smiled ruefully. It seemed that Kanji was becoming better at reading her. She didn't mind, especially given how attentive he was while listening to her problems when she talked about them. An old part of herself grumbled about how unbecoming it was for a detective to show her feelings so easily, worse yet that she would consider sharing her thoughts before she could make a definitive case one way or the other. However, that part of her psyche was a small portion compared to the larger whole of her that was very much enjoying her time with Kanji, from the gifts to the smiles and touches to the chance to speak her mind. "I'm just thinking about Izumi-san."

Kanji nodded in agreement, his face pensive. "It was kinda weird how she came outta nowhere. Seems Nanako-chan's over the moon about her though, so I think it'll go well with her an' Doujima." Then he looked at her a bit closer. "That's not what you're worried about though, is it?"

She looked at him sideways. "It's a bit long-winded," she warned him. "I wouldn't want to derail anything you had planned."

He shrugged. "Everthin' I had in mind's already here and done. If you need to get somethin' off your chest, then let's hear it."

She nodded. He was one of the few people left in Inaba who would understand her concerns, and that thought made her miss the others. She would be sure to call them all tomorrow; friends should be in touch during the holidays. "There is more to it, but I don't know if what I have makes sense. I'm not even sure if I have everything straight right now."

"Well, let's start from the beginning and see where it goes," he suggested.

Naoto took a breath and started speaking. "I wasn't expecting Konishi to bring up his sister's death like he did. Keeping the murders a secret was never going to happen since everyone knows everyone else in Inaba, and Senpai was especially well-known when he was here, but Izumi-san learned about the murders far faster than I expected. I'd hoped that Doujima-san would have been the one to tell her about them. Instead she came out of nowhere and heard about the case on her first day here."

Kanji grunted quietly. "Yeah, that'd be a problem. Naoki let the cat out of the bag, did he?"

"Yes, and I'm not sure how that will reflect on Senpai. There are many things that I doubt he talked to his family about. On that note, I don't even know how much Izumi-san knows about us, or what she will think of us if she learns we were involved in the murder investigation." Naoto let her thoughts works themselves out while Kanji remained silent. "What do you think of her?"

He tapped the table for a few seconds before speaking. "She's not what I expected, but she kinda is. Senpai never talked about his parents, so I always assumed that they were just kinda there, you know? Izumi-san feels pretty normal, really smart and into business but not stuck-up or... I dunno, she just seems like the sort of person who'd be Senpai's mom. I didn't get a bad feeling from her or anything. But if Naoki talked about his sister and the murders, then we'll have to tell Teddie and Nanako-chan to keep quiet about the TV world and everything that happened."

"I already did," Naoto told him. Teddie had been ecstatic when she'd told him that Senpai's mother had come to visit Inaba, so much so that he'd wanted to race over and greet her right away. Naoto had clamped down on that idea and been very, very clear on why discretion was of paramount importance when speaking to Izumi-san. Naoto had especially stressed why anything regarding Personas and Shadows and the TV world was not to be spoken of. "Teddie said that he wants to meet her, and I want to be there when he does."

Kanji chuckled, the sound deep and smooth. "I don't blame you. But is that what yer fretting over? That Izumi-san might go digging into things?"

Naoto let out a breath, moving to the next topic that had been on her mind. "Only to a point. If none of us talk about the TV world or mention our Personas, then there's nowhere for anyone to go for an inquiry. That secret is easy enough to keep. The murder investigation is a different matter, but I trust Doujima-san to handle that, and I suppose I can step in if I need to. I'm more worried about how Senpai will react to Izumi-san being here in the first place. I get the impression that he's not on the best of terms with his parents, but I don't know anything more than that and so I don't know what questions to ask or what information is taboo."

"You think there's bad blood between them?" Kanji inquired with a touch of surprise. "It's not like Senpai got abused as a kid or anything. He'd have had a Shadow if he did, and Izumi-san really doesn't seem like the sort to hurt someone. Comin' out here and talkin' to us shows she cares, if you ask me."

"I agree," Naoto explained, "and I don't think he went through anything that dramatic. He'd be a very different person if he'd physically suffered at the hands of his parents. But he talked about his parents causing him problems once when he tried to come out to visit. Even after he resolved the matter, he never talked about them beyond that point and I don't even know if he brought it up with Yosuke-senpai or Yukiko-senpai. It makes me wonder how he feels toward Izumi-san, especially since there's so little that she seemed to know about Inaba and what went on here."

Kanji nodded before replying. "It's not like he could tell them what went on with the murders, but I think I see your point. There were lots of things that he could have talked about, but Izumi-san didn't seem to know anything at all."

"That's what concerns me," Naoto admitted. "I'd have thought she'd know the basics, at least. Friends he'd made or what he did while he was here, but Izumi-san seemed to be very much in the dark about everything. Why would Senpai keep that information from his parents unless he's not close to them? There are other reasons why he wouldn't say anything, like work schedules or there just not being time to go over things. But if his previous problems were commonplace, then I wonder just how distant they are from each other. And this is only from what I can tell from Izumi-san; I know very little of what Senpai's father is like."

Kanji tapped the table in thought again. "It does seem strange that Izumi-san'd come talk to us in person, in that case. She just coulda called if she wanted to talk to Nanako-chan and Doujima. But it could also be that Izumi-san did want to come out here for the holidays like she said. Could be that she didn't expect to meet us here at all since Nanako-chan was the one showing her around town, right? Might've just been a dumb coincidence."

"Which raises its own set of questions. Nanako-chan seemed very excited to introduce Izumi-san as her aunt. Nanako-chan even said that she hasn't seen Izumi-san in years, perhaps since she was a child, so why the change now?" Naoto sighed and pulled back on her curiosity. Even if Kanji was okay with her getting these things off her mind, it felt wrong to be discussing work right now. It was their first Christmas as a couple, and even she knew that spending time together during the holidays was important. She felt a bit bad, knowing that she should be thinking in the mind of a girlfriend instead of a detective. "I'm sorry, that took longer than I wanted it to. If you want to talk about something else, we can try that."

He smiled, a rather handsome smile that got her heart tripping over itself. "It's no problem. I asked, right? Besides, Izumi-san's here now, so maybe we'll hear more about Senpai and how he was before he moved here. And if she's going to be around for a while, then Nanako-chan'll be talkin' about her for months. Actually, I heard that she even went to visit Yukiko-senpai's parents."

Naoto perked up at the new information, ready to wade right back into the conversation. "Really? Do you know how it went?"

He shrugged and held up a hand, rocking it back and forth. "I'm hearin' different things from people, so it's hard to say what's real or not. I know that Yukiko-senpai's dad gave Senpai the third degree when they started going out, and her mom's pretty tough when you get to know her. Some people say that they had a fight with Izumi-san, others're sayin' things went okay. Seems like it could've gone either way."

Naoto gave a discontent little huff. "That's frustrating. I wish I knew what went on, or what Doujima-san has said so far. I wonder if I should call Senpai and see what his opinion on this is."

Kanji's content look turned guarded when she said that. "Wouldn't that be like interferin' with his life?"

"I don't think so," she defended. "I'd just want to know what's going on in case we need to account for anything. I'd prefer to know if Izumi-san's presence here will, to use Teddie's preferred expression, make the fur fly when Senpai finds out."

He smiled at her use of the idiom. "If that's the case, then it makes sense to call him. But this is Senpai's thing so he's the one who's gotta work the rest of this stuff out. Besides, this stuff's probably only gonna last for a little while before Izumi-san goes back home. I'm sure she's got a job back in Tokyo, so she won't be here for very long. Worst that can happen in that case is that she sticks around until January and Nanako-chan gets some good memories out of it, right?"

Naoto raised an eyebrow. He made good points, but he almost seemed dismissive of the situation's potential ramifications. "That's a rather cavalier approach to take, isn't it? There is the chance for problems to arise if Senpai's parents don't have a good relationship with him and someone says something wrong. His engagement to Yukiko-senpai comes to mind in that regard."

"If Senpai's got a problem with his dad or Izumi-san, then he'll have to work it out," Kanji established. "We'll be there for him if he needs it, but it's Senpai we're talking about here; he's always got a plan. No matter what his parents throw at him, I don't think it's something he can't handle, especially if Yukiko-senpai's there to help him." He chuckled. "She won't let anything get in her way once she gets going."

"Do you think that she would be enough if the worst case happened?"

There wasn't a trace of doubt in his voice when he said, "I think she's enough to handle it on her own."

Naoto nodded. Kanji's rationale made sense, and it was easy to forget that as well as she knew Senpai, Kanji had known him and the others for quite a bit longer. "That's a fair point. She has been through a great deal, and I think she'll fight to protect what she cares about. Senpai certainly falls into that category, as does their engagement."

Kanji laughed. "That ain't the half of it. Yukiko-senpai's always been like that. She's quiet and polite and all, and she's usually smart enough to get what she wants that way, but if you get her mad, she's pretty scary. That TV crew scam, guys at school, and anyone who thought she was an easy mark because she looked good ended up learning that the hard way. I don't even think that the Shadows got to her in a big way, so Senpai's parents won't be a problem. And that's if there even is a problem at all, y'know? I think Izumi-san'll go back home and things'll go back to normal in no time. She doesn't seem like that bad of a person."

"You have a great deal of faith in Yukiko-senpai," Naoto observed. "You've known her for a long time, haven't you?"

Kanji shrugged. "Since we were kids, on and off. She loved playin' house, wantin' to be a good wife and mom and look after her family. She was the same way when her an' Senpai hooked up and we were in the TV world, maybe even more. If she's with Senpai then she's not gonna take anyone's shit. Not from Izumi-san or from Senpai's dad, no matter what they do."

"You're right. I shouldn't worry, in that case."

"She's got a good head on her shoulders," he asserted. "She'll be all right."

"Thank you for entertaining that line of discussion," she told him sincerely. "It's helped put things in perspective."

"No problem. I'm glad it helped." He blushed a bit and scratched his cheek, seeming to wrestle with something.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not wrong. It's just, y'know, it's Christmas, an'..." He seemed to fight more with what he wanted to say before his left hand slowly, hesitantly, came around her. He'd given her ample time to protest, but she had no intention of doing so. His hand settled on her side, then lowered a little to rest on her hip.

Naoto paused before giving a small smile and a rosy blush. She'd been thinking of how to be a better girlfriend, and she was glad for the chance to make use of her notes and research. She shuffled over next to him, resting against his sturdy frame and wriggling a bit with his hand still on her hip. "It is Christmas," she noted, looking up.

He chuckled, nervousness and affection in his tone, and leaned down for a soft kiss. The way he gently ran his free hand through her hair made her sigh and thrill a bit; their practice sessions in affection were paying off quite well. The kisses remained soft, and in the dim light of the room, with festive colours blushing outside, Naoto revelled in the chance to let her rational side rest so she could try some new things.

\---

Rise breathed out in the cold night air. Kyoto was beautiful in the winter, and the city had gone all out for Christmas this year. Paper lanterns swung and the multi-coloured lights made the streets almost as bright as daytime, only much prettier. The people laughed and joked around her, a lot more open and friendly than the staid, black-clad workers in Tokyo and the rest of the Kanto region, and the energy in the air was infectious. It wasn't just the hustle and bustle or the enthusiasm that she could feel as she watched the crowds ebb and flow before her – she could hear the sounds of those people around her, the bouncing symphonies that sounded rather baroque and full of life. She found herself swaying and tapping her fingers to the music, unable to help herself. When she thought of the music classes she'd taken, she compared this auditory buffet to the sounds of Tokyo and found the latter to be closer to what her teachers would call "verismo," or standard, everyday music. There was an energy and a liveliness here while the east sounded more uptight and set to a schedule. Rise wondered if she'd eventually get worn out by the vivid melodies around her if she lived here and went to festivals like this all the time, but as it was now, she thrived on the unique music and made the most of the opportunity. The unusual audio was proof that Kanzeon was still with her, even if the average person was at a lower volume than her Persona-wielding friends.

"Sorry for the wait," Yosuke-senpai told her as he approached. "I hope you haven't been here too long."

Rise smiled, welcoming her friend over, and held her hand out to indicate the passersby. "I was early so it's fine. I was just watching the people."

He turned to look at them with her, smiling handsomely as he did so. "They're different from back in Tokyo, aren't they? Kansai people seem a lot more laidback and easygoing."

"Maybe it's the accent," she suggested.

"We Osaka folk don't speak with an accent there, Missy," Yosuke-senpai drawled in a surprisingly good imitation of Kansai-ben. "It's them Kanto folk you've gotta be on yer toes fer. Buncha sticks in the mud, all serious and uppity-like."

Rise laughed. "That was really good!"

"Move around a little and you learn a few things," he replied, holding his arm out toward a food stall. "You hungry?"

"Sure." She fell into step with him as they bought some sugared nuts and warm drinks. Yosuke-senpai insisted that they stay away from the holiday sake, much to Rise's protest, but he bought her some spiced hot chocolate instead and they found a bench to sit on so they could enjoy their food and watch the people some more. "How have your classes been going?" she asked once her insides were nice and warm.

"Pretty good," he informed her once he swallowed his food. "I have a few professors who seem pretty decent, and I think I know what classes I want to take next year. I was hoping you'd be able to help me out with a few things, actually."

"I wouldn't be able to help you with your homework, Senpai," she began, not knowing how she could help someone in college. "I wouldn't even know where to start with that stuff."

He shook his head, tossing his empty cup and food wrappers into a nearby garbage can. "That wasn't what I had in mind ¬– I have Souji and Kou to help me with my homework. I want to look into the music program and get into something formal, and you know music better than they do."

Rise tilted her head, not completely sure what his point was. "I can give you some advice, but why are you asking? Do you want to join a band?"

"That's not what I mean." He took a moment before speaking, his smile turning surprisingly warm. "I'm thinking of taking some classes so I can learn to put music together. Compose it, that is. I want to start off with background music, like the sort you hear in video games or anime. I wouldn't need a band or a studio, and I might be able to get around the traditional publishing contracts that everyone seems to be stuck with. Lots of musicians are putting their stuff online these days, and the reach you can get is pretty impressive. I've been talking to some people in the business and I was wondering if you knew anyone who wouldn't mind giving me some pointers."

Rise perked up the more of his idea she heard. Yosuke-senpai's idea tickled her auditory senses enough to make her giggle. "I'd love to help! I know a few people, I'll give you their numbers. I have one condition: When you get something done, you have to let me listen to it first, okay?"

He nodded, his eyes alight. "It's a deal."

"I didn't know you were serious about making music," Rise admitted. Yosuke-senpai loved listening to music so much that he always had something playing when they were in the TV world, and the times when she'd seen him working at Junes without his headphones had been when he seemed the most listless or distracted. Naoto-kun and Kanji always gave him crap for damaging his hearing and not paying attention to what was going on around him, respectively, but Rise always admired how he fought while listening to his own song mix; he seemed to flow with the music, and it had been hard to take her eyes off him sometimes. "When did you get into composing?"

"I haven't put anything together yet," he corrected her a bit sheepishly. "I still have to look at what sort of equipment would work for what I want to do. But it started when I got to talking to some people at college in between classes and reading some things online. Some of their ideas were pretty impressive, but there are a lot of people who seemed like they were missing the point when I talked to them. They'd say that they were looking to be the next big thing or that they wanted to be just like their favourite idol. When I asked them about the point of some of their songs, I got a lot of blank looks or people thinking I was being a hipster for reading too much into it. But then I listened to some interviews and TV shows and it felt like I was on the right track, so I want to see where that takes me. Songs should have a point and they should mean something to the person putting them together, or you're just copying someone else's work instead of making something that's yours."

Rise paused before replying. She'd heard this sort of talk from people in the biz, and they generally fell into two categories: The ones who critiqued the mainstream and became part of it, or the real artists who had a vision and followed it. In her experience, there were far more of the first option than of the second. "Is this a pride thing? Are you trying to prove them wrong?"

Yosuke-senpai shifted a bit in his seat, seeming to weigh his answer. "It's not really about pride. I don't care what other people do or how they see music, so I'm not trying to make a point and shove someone's face in it. But I do want to see where my approach goes, so I guess so? But that's not all there is to it, and it's a bit hard to explain. I wake up in the middle of the night with a melody in my head. Sometimes it goes away on its own, other times it keeps playing until I write it down or do something with it. The thing is, that's always happening now, and if I don't do something then I regret it or wonder what it might have become if I had written it down. If this is something that's going to be with me from now on, then I want to make the most of it while I can."

Rise nodded. Whether Yosuke-senpai had worked this all out in steps or if he'd just had the switch flipped and landed on the answer as a fluke, it seemed like he had the right idea. "The composers and musicians I know, the ones who are really serious about their stuff, they say the same thing. They say it's always on and always happening and they have to do something with it or it'll drive them crazy. Or sometimes it does go away if they shut it out, but the guys who do that end up miserable."

"What about you? Do you feel that way?"

Rise was a bit flattered at the question; not a lot of people asked her that. Everyone seemed to assume that just because she was an idol and she was young that she couldn't write her own stuff. "It's a bit different for me. I don't have it going 24/7 like some people, or at least not in the same way you're describing. It's more like I'll hear something or see something and get an idea for some lyrics or a composition. People have been the best inspiration for me, so that's why I love doing interviews and talking to the fans. Some of my best stuff has come from that."

"Would Ruby Red be one of them?" he asked, referring to the titular hit of her most recent album.

Rise blushed and nodded. "I didn't know you listened to my stuff, Senpai."

"It stands out," he told her confidently. "The whole album feels like you're hitting your stride again, but that song feels the most like you."

"Thanks," she murmured. She had to admit that Ruby Red had been her favourite song on the album, from writing it to performing it. It was a bit more risqué than her usual stuff, but that might have been why she liked it so much. "And yeah, that's an example of what we're talking about, I guess."

"Good to know I'm not alone, then," he remarked a bit wryly. "Sometimes it made me wonder."

"You've never mentioned composing music before, though," she noted in curiosity. "Listening to it, sure, but not making it. Is this pretty new?"

Yosuke-senpai leaned back, a thoughtful frown on his face. "I don't think so. I've always loved listening to music, and it didn't matter what genre or even what language it was. If I heard something I liked, then I liked it. I never followed just one band or one style just for its own sake, and it seemed that other people were the weird ones if they got too stuck in their ways. The thing is, the more I listened, the more I got a feel for what seemed to fit and what didn't. A right or wrong chord or chorus line, an instrument out of place or something that really made the whole song pop, that sort of thing. That made me look for different bands and different influences, but when I started looking for the people who were doing it right, it seemed like there were so few who felt like they raised the bar. Some people were making the best stuff while everyone else seemed like they were just trying to be heard instead of adding to the experience. So I decided to start writing my own music and make the stuff I liked, and that's when things felt the most... natural, I suppose. Like it was scratching the itch in the best way."

Rise nodded, a new warm feeling emerging in her stomach. It was nice to be able to talk shop with someone who understood music and really got it like this. Like Yosuke-senpai said, there were a lot of pretenders and people just following the most recent fads, but real artists were pretty rare. "I know what you mean, and I think you're on the right track. My advice is to keep going. Not just because it feels right – I couldn't say for sure since I don't know how it feels for you – but if you're composing things when you're in the zone like that, then I really want to hear what you can make."

"I want to see where it goes," he continued expansively, "so I'm going to talk to some people when I get back and look into the music program and get as much information as I can. Lectures, interviews, anything."

Rise nodded and smiled. "That sounds awesome, Senpai. Like I said, I get to listen to your first demos, okay?"

Some of his sheepishness came back then, and he scratched the back of his head. "It feels kind of embarrassing, saying it like no one's done it or something. I feel like I'm a new guy in the game and I don't even have my feet wet, so what does it matter what I think?"

"Everyone starts there," she told him, thinking of how frightening it had been to talk to composers and meet other idols when she'd been starting out, "and if you can approach it from the right angle then there's no reason you can't make something out of it. Everyone I've talked to about singing and song writing says that they have to keep growing and keep working at it or they lose their edge."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. I'll be careful," he said with a nod and a far-off look.

"This is exciting!" she gushed, leaning over. "I can't wait to hear what you put together now."

"I'd appreciate it," he told her before looking over with a raised eyebrow. "How about you, though? We've talked a lot about me, but how are things going on your end?"

"They're going fine," she replied, a bit too quickly.

Yosuke-senpai chuckled before turning on the bench to look at her. "Okay, let's try that again. How's work?"

She smiled a bit ruefully at how he was able to read her. "It's going good," she told him honestly. "I was just thinking of something before we came here."

"Like what?"

Rise sighed a bit. She didn't want to bring the mood down, but Yosuke-senpai and her friends had always told her to call them and vent if she needed to instead of bottling everything up. Her time in the TV world had taught her that lesson pretty well, too. "The future, I guess," she began. "Inoue does a really good job of keeping me busy and relevant, but I know what the idol business is like. Even at my best, even if I change things up to stay in the spotlight, I've only got ten years or so before I'm yesterday's news. And ten years is being pretty generous; it could be as little as five or six. I might be a washed-up idol before I turn 25, then I would have to find something else to do. And once I find something else to do, I wonder if I'd be any good at it. All this time on the road doesn't let me study much or get degrees like you guys. I'll probably try to stay in the business, but the idol industry is pretty cutthroat, and people have really short memories when someone else comes up. That's the case even when you're sweating blood on the stage, really, and lots of girls want to take your place whether they're ahead of you or behind you. Inoue tells me not to worry about things like that, and I'm sure he'll do his best to keep me going for as long as he can, but you can't fight the nature of the industry."

"Pretty heavy thoughts for the holidays," Yosuke-senpai commented steadily.

Rise sighed. "Yeah, I know. Mom and Dad said the same thing when I talked to them. They said I should enjoy it while I can and worry about that other stuff when it comes up."

"They're probably right," he concurred. "It might be that you're on limited time as an idol, sure, but you also might want to do something else when your time is up. You might even find something you really want to move on to by sticking it out and giving it your best, like being an agent or teaching singing lessons or something."

"That's what I hope," Rise admitted, starting to feel better from talking about it. Much as she loved what she did, it was easier to think of a downfall in popularity as a beginning to something else instead of as an end to all the fun times and good memories. "I'm just not sure if I'll find something like that, or if I'll recognize it when it does come along, you know?"

"You will," Yosuke-senpai told her with some pretty strong conviction. "You sound like you're doubting yourself right now, but you'll know what you want to do when the time comes. You also have the rest of us to help you out if you aren't sure."

Rise smiled when he said that. It was true, she had the best friends that she could have ever hoped for. She felt sorry for the girls in the industry who had to look at every person either as a revenue source or as a potential scandal, and her meetings with Kanamin and other idols only reinforced how lucky she was to have such sincere people in her life. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks for listening, Senpai."

He shrugged and gave her his usual smile. "Hey, no charge. For what you've offered, it's the least I can do."

"Being around everyone helps," she told him, feeling better now. "Sometimes I get stuck in my own head. It's nice to be able to talk to someone about this stuff."

"Believe me, I know the feeling. If you need someone to help you kill some time, let me know."

She nodded. That was a load off her mind. "I will. Thanks again."

Something seemed to amuse Yosuke-senpai just then, because he startled chuckling before looking over at her. "Since we got off topic, I wanted to address something."

Rise tilted her head, curious of what might he might be talking about. "What's that?"

He scratched his neck, seeming like he was fighting the urge to start laughing. "Well, I wasn't quite sure how to do this, but I don't really want to keep putting it off. I tried to think of the right words for it, but this is the best I can come up with."

Rise was really curious now, but an icy dread filled her heart when he got up, turned in front of her and got on one knee. People around him immediately started looking and gawking, and it was easy to guess what was going through their heads.

"Kujikawa Rise," he began expansively, and that got some whispers as the name Risette started floating around, "you've been a great friend, and I hope this doesn't seem too out of place, but I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore."

Rise felt like a boiling pot, not sure if she was about to die of embarrassment or yell at him for making a spectacle of them both. She could already see the cameras and cell phones coming out. Fans proposing to her wasn't uncommon, but Inoue had asked to be kept in the loop where her friends were concerned. How was he going to take it when pictures of this came across his desk?

"You're a wonderful person, the brightest star in my sky, and every time we meet it becomes harder for me to contain my true feelings!"

Rise glared at him, recognizing the cheesy soap opera he was quoting. Being associated with something that tacky was almost insulting by itself. Contrary to her reaction, however, she could hear some girls and women in the crowd gasping and giggling while others watched with baited breath.

"It is with great affection and the profoundest humility that I ask you this, perhaps the hardest question I have ever asked in our long time of association! Could you please find it in your heart... to accept my Christmas present?" He presented a small box from his pocket, wrapped in pink paper and sporting a red ribbon on top.

The crowd went silent as more and more people stopped to watch. Some people in the crowd began conveying what had happened to newcomers, and more than a few of them mentioned the word "proposal." She knew that she had to handle this situation properly, that storming off or overreacting would come back to haunt her. Worst of all was the smile he was giving her, the bright gleam in his eyes that told her that he knew exactly what he was doing. She clenched her fists, and demurely rose from her seat as she concocted the correct response. "Hanamura Yosuke," she replied with the same gravity as he'd first addressed her with, "you are such a jerk."

He burst out laughing. "Was it the delivery?" he asked. "The lines? I'll do better next time, I promise!"

"I'll let you figure that part out," she answered, "and don't worry about getting it right – don't try it again. Ever."

She turned to leave him on his knee, but he reached up with his free hand and lightly grasped her wrist as she passed. "That's for you and Chie setting me up before," he told her in a tone low enough that only she could hear him. "Does it make us even?"

She glared at him, but couldn't deny that some part of her did find both the joke and his delivery quite well done. She pushed that part down, however, and yanked her hand back before storming off. The crowd parted with some people taking pictures and others laughing as they got what had happened. Yosuke-senpai followed her a few steps behind, still laughing to himself and asking her which part of the joke didn't work.

It was the next street over that Rise slowed down enough that she could turn and glare at him as he came up next to her. "That wasn't funny," she insisted.

"Sure it was," he replied. "And it was completely harmless. A bit of Christmas controversy will sell a few albums, and I'm sure I'm not the first fan to try that."

He was right, and it was true that she'd had proposals from fans begging to be her boyfriend. Even if she weren't contractually obligated to remain single, however, none of them had really stirred her in the way she wanted. In the way that Souji-senpai had. She'd made her peace with him being taken, but he did make for an excellent bar that every other guy had to reach before she'd take them seriously, even if she did feel bad about turning those hopeful fans down.

"Forgive me?" he asked with a grin.

"Not a chance," she grumbled.

"C'mon, don't you even want to see what I got you?" he persisted, holding the pink-wrapped box up again for her to see.

She glared over at him, about to chew him out. But then she saw his still-offered gift, wrapped in sparkly pink paper. It couldn't have been easy for a guy to carry something so girly, and it did make her curious about what he'd gotten her. "Hand it over," she groused half-heartedly.

"As the lady desires," he replied, presenting it almost flamboyantly and giving her a rather handsome smile.

Clown, Rise thought with a grudging smile. It was hard to stay angry with him when he looked that good. She took the gift, turning it around and looking at it.

"And I promise it's not a voucher for cooking classes," he added with a grin.

Her head snapped up as she glared at him. "That's not even funny, Senpai," she answered coldly.

"C'mon, that would be a great gift, wouldn't it? You'd definitely get some use out of it!"

"Don't. You. Dare."

He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, fine. Not for Christmas, but what about for your birthday? It's at the beginning of June, right?"

Rise was a bit flattered that he knew that much. He was right; her birthday was June 1st. "If I don't tell you, you can't make the mistake of following through, can you?"

"That's pretty cruel," he complained good-naturedly. "Go on, take a look."

She unwrapped the gift, carefully peeling the paper back and opening the plain box. The gift looked like a small keychain, and when she lifted it up so she could look at it better, she couldn't help the smile that grew on her face. There were two chains attached to the larger ring. One of the chains was connected to a well-made miniature microphone while the other was linked to what looked like a polished satellite reflector. To anyone else it would have been an odd accessory, but she knew that he'd framed the gift after Himiko's sensory mechanisms. Just touching the gift sent a ripple of harmonious thrills through her, and it reminded her of the high points in the TV world. For such a simple gift, it was something only one of her friends could have thought up, and even they might not have fully understood just how her Persona had affected her. But Yosuke-senpai did, and she smiled at him for it. "Thanks a lot, Senpai. I love it," she told him as she held the gift up, tapping it with a nail and feeling the sound run through her.

"My pleasure," he told her with a genuine smile.

"Where'd you get it made? This is pretty impressive work."

He held up a finger to fend off the question. "Ah ah, trade secret. A gentleman never tells, after all."

Rise pouted before batting her eyes, not about to let the question drop. "C'mon, please?"

He looked at her archly, seeming to consider whether he should or not. "Hm... maybe I'll tell you, but why don't we see some more of the sights while I decide?"

She smiled then. He didn't need an excuse to spend time with her, but it would be a nice change of topic compared to the heavy stuff from earlier. "Sure. Do you have someplace in mind?"

"Yep. C'mon."

Rise fell into step next to him, and as he started talking about the places they could hit up, she heard an old, familiar chord rise up from him. It was independent of his voice, and it wasn't as loud as when they'd been fighting in the TV world, but the beautifully harmonious cascade from his soul was still playing. It was strong and pure, and perhaps it had never stopped since he'd awakened to his Persona. She timed her questions and comments with the rises and falls of the music, moving in between the notes where she could. She didn't try to stop her smile this time, and as they moved through the well-lit Kyoto night, she found herself shuffling just a bit closer to Yosuke-senpai so that she could hear him just a little more.

\---

Chie took a long, deep breath, enjoying the way the cold air bit at her lungs. She hadn't had as much time to exercise and spar lately with all the studying she'd been doing, so this felt like quick, easy exertion. Now that she had a break in her classes, she was looking forward to hitting the gym and attending her martial arts lessons again, the sooner the better.

She chuckled and walked a bit faster. Well, not too soon. She was meeting Kou and she wanted to get in as much time with him as she could before he left. She moved through the crowds, something she'd become much better at compared to when she'd first moved to the university, and made her way toward the bridge where they said they'd meet. She was about to go down the stairs to the meeting spot when she saw him coming from the opposite direction, dozens of metres away.

Her breath caught when she saw him. He was walking toward the bridge railing and it was like a scene in those movies that Rise gushed over where the lead actor arrived and everything moved out of the way for him. He was dressed clean and sharp in whites and blacks, a buttoned-up jacket and dark slacks that emphasized the lean lines of his body. She moved to the railing of the stair landing pad and smiled when she noticed again how he'd been letting his hair grow longer. From how smooth it looked, she wanted to give him grief about how he was more girly than she was, but even from where she stood she could see how his hair highlighted the handsome angles of his face and the thought died off. The way the festive lights reflecting off the river lit up his face, making him even more handsome, and even though Chie wanted to deny that she was ever the kind of girl who swooned over an attractive guy, there was definitely something like a sigh of longing in her chest as she took a few seconds to watch him.

That moment, that dreamy vision of him looking so damn handsome, gave rise to a voice in the back of her mind. A voice that was irritatingly familiar and very unwelcome right now: He deserves better than you.

It was hard to ignore those words. Talking to Natsuki-san and Yukiko had gotten her past the worst of it, but that didn't change the idea from always being in the background, waiting to hit her when it would hurt the most. It was an idea that she'd been wrestling with and hadn't been able to shake. She looked at Kou and how he was smiling and nodding to passersby, even having some good-looking girls come up to him to talk. Those girls wore skirts and shoes and had long hair, and even from where Chie stood she could see that their tops allowed for a nice view of a fun amount of boob. They radiated femininity and seemed perfectly happy to look and be looked at, given how they giggled and shifted around Kou. He felt like he belonged there, classy and smart and striking with classy and beautiful people. When Chie glanced down at what she was wearing, her fur-collared winter jacket and a skirt with leggings to keep the cold out, she couldn't help the feeling that even her best fell pretty short of the mark in comparison.

She shook her head and narrowed her eyes, shutting those ideas down. She'd heard the doubts whispering in her ears for weeks. How Kou deserved someone who wouldn't make him go through a long-distance relationship, someone closer than a three-hour train ride, someone who could support what he was going through instead of being up to her neck in her own studies and barely able to text when he needed her. How he deserved someone more feminine, someone who couldn't beat up half the boys in town when she was growing up, and who didn't have rough hands and scarred knees. How he deserved someone who wanted to settle down and have kids rather than pursue an independent path of her own in life. He deserved all those things and more, and she would have stood aside and told him to go for someone like that if he'd wanted. Even if, at this moment, it would have torn her heart out of her chest to let him go after he'd helped her so much, even if it would mean giving up on the happiness that she felt every time they texted or he called her to ask how her week was going, she would have done it and been miserable and let those doubts win.

But one fact burned brightest in those tumultuous thoughts: He'd chosen her. She'd thought of every other reason why he might be with her, and some of those reasons had gotten Yukiko pretty angry when Chie had admitted what was going through her mind. She'd considered that it might be a mistake or that he'd get tired of her once he saw how much work it was going to be, but the thing that stuck out in her mind, that kept her head straight and her smiles genuine, was that he'd chosen her and pursued her and hadn't seemed to regret his decision one bit. When they spoke he seemed happy, and when she talked with him she could hear the energy seeping back into his voice. She'd been hoping for some show of affection at the train station before and he'd given her a hug that still made her blush just thinking about it. Nothing about him suggested he was regretting things, and if he had any doubts, she couldn't find them.

Her phone vibrated, and she glanced once more to where those two girls were getting way too close to Kou before looking at the screen. She laughed unexpectedly when she read the text she'd been sent.

"Waiting at the bridge, cornered by two girls, perfume is way too strong. Are you almost here? Could use an assist."

Chie closed her phone with a smile. This was something she didn't need to think about. He needed his girlfriend to come to the rescue, and she was going to do just that. She picked up the bag she'd brought along with her and went down the stairs and confidently walked toward Kou. She couldn't blame him for commenting on the perfume the girls were wearing; Chie's eyes started to water when she was still several yards away.

"There you are," he told her once he saw her. "As I was saying, ladies, just waiting for my girlfriend."

Chie glanced at the girls and immediately had them pegged. Still in high school or just barely graduated, pretty and primped up with designer clothes and nice make-up, but they lacked the overall sense of style that Natsuki-san had, or the maturity that Yukiko exhibited without even thinking of it. Their girly expressions didn't cover up the haughty, expectant look in their eyes, and the way they looked at her – like she was a dripping-wet mongrel pulling itself out of the river – said it all. Chie sidled up to Kou and slipped an arm around his, smiling congenially while her eyes narrowed. "Sorry I'm late. I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"The girls here were just telling me about Kyoto," he replied smoothly. "We're done now."

"There's still a lot more to say if you're interested," one of them pointed out in a smooth, innocent tone that, again, did nothing to hide the contempt in her eyes when she looked at Chie.

"I live here too, so I can do that for him," Chie informed them directly. "And we have plans for the evening that we need to get to, so excuse us."

The girls glared at her, discretely or it would have blown their cover, but Chie smiled coldly and cocked her head to the side. Move along. Now. That got her an expression that bordered on a sneer, but Kou cleared his throat and the girls turned and left without another protesting, muttering to each other under their breath.

"Thanks," he told her, wiping at his eyes and breathing deep to clear his lungs of the smell. "I'm not sure I'd still be conscious if you hadn't shown up. I thought perfume was something girls wore in moderation, but that was way too much."

Chie thought back to the times when Natsuki-san had brought up the topic of beauty, always telling Chie to play to her strengths and never overcompensate. "Some people don't know how strong the smell is," Chie replied. "That or they think everyone's sense of smell is as bad as theirs is."

"Either way, I'm glad they're gone." He smiled at her, genuine and a bit shy and utterly gorgeous. "And I'm glad you're here."

Chie quivered and giggled – actually giggled – at the line, happy to be so readily appreciated. "I hope that wasn't too much."

"It was fine, believe me."

Chie wasn't sure where to take the conversation from here, so she dug into her bag. "So, before I forget, Merry Christmas."

Kou's eyes widened in surprise, taking the wrapped package she offered him. "Oh. Uh, thanks. I wish I'd known, your gifts are at the hotel."

"Sorry," she told him bashfully, scratching the back of her head. "That probably came from out of nowhere, didn't it?"

"It's fine. Thanks for the gift; I know how hard it is to buy things on our budget."

Chie blushed a bit. She'd keep to herself that Daddy had been helping with the dorm costs and she'd been working part-time at the dojo to help her to live on more than canned soup and instant ramen. The gift had been something she'd had to set aside two months' pay for, but she wasn't going to miss the chance to get him something for Christmas.

Kou peeled the wrapping paper back, smiling at the green and gold designs, and his eyes widened when he saw what she'd gotten him: A book on muscle-building and neural physiology.

"I remembered that you were looking for some books on that stuff, and I'm pretty sure this was one of them," she began bashfully. Souji had helped a bit here; he'd told her which ones Kou already had so there wouldn't need to be any returns or mistakes. "I couldn't think of what else to get you."

"This is perfect," he told her after a moment. "I can use this next semester." His smile widened. "Thank you, Chie."

She knew he was handsome, but the way he looked at her then made her blush and trip over her words. "Y–you're welcome. I'm just... glad that you like it. It feels like the least I can do after everything I–" She bit her lip to stop talking, afraid that her doubts would come out.

His smiled subsided a bit and he leaned in closer. "After everything what?"

"Oh, uh, it's nothing."

"You stopped halfway through saying it," he observed cannily, not letting the matter drop. "It's not just nothing, is it?"

Chie tried to recover, but even as she spoke she knew that she was nowhere near convincing him. "I didn't mean to say that. It's just... something that's been on my mind."

"Call me a narcissist," he joked, "but I get the feeling that it has to do with me."

"It... Kind of," she hedged, "but not in the way that you think."

"Do you feel like sharing?"

She sighed. It was the holidays. She really didn't want to talk about her insecurities right now, or ever if she could manage it. "It's a few things, I guess. More my own problems than anything you're doing."

"Or not doing?"

His answer caught her off-guard. "Hm?"

"I'm not here where I can help you. The best I can do is text you or answer your voicemails when I get a chance. It's not the best situation in the world." He scratched the back of his neck and glanced toward the river, his eyes clouded. "It's not a fun feeling. I'm supposed to be your boyfriend, but there's a lot of things I can't do over a phone, and you really don't deserve me not being around to help you."

Chie froze, momentarily flabbergasted by what she was hearing. He was blaming himself. It might have been because he felt guilty about not being there with her, or perhaps it was because he was trying to take the weight of the larger problem on himself so that he could rationalize it, but either way he was doing the same thing she'd been doing just minutes before. Her smart, handsome, rich, athletic boyfriend was blaming himself for the situation, and might even be blaming himself for how insecure she was feeling. The irony of her tormenting herself, of not feeling worthy of him, while he was doing the same thing as she held him on a pedestal was enough to turn her stomach. She wanted to help him in that instant, even though she also hated herself for only focusing on how she felt about the situation. But in the twisting bile that hadn't let her go, there was a solution. She knew what he was feeling, and she had a chance to address the problem. She knew she had to take this opportunity, or these problems would keep weighing them down. "That's okay," she began. "I understand."

"You understand?"

"Yeah, I do, because I've been thinking the same thing."

"The same... You know that's not the case, Chie. I should–"

She shook her head and held her fingers up to his lips. "I need to say this and get it off my chest," she told him. Her thoughts were surprisingly lucid and the words felt like they were ready to be said. It felt a bit like when she'd been in the TV world and she was with the others, setting out to save someone; singularity of purpose and skill, an objective and the will to reach it.

Think. Feel. But most importantly, act.

She told him about the doubts she'd been having, the insecurities and how she'd had to lean on Yukiko and Natsuki-san to get her through the worst of it. She told him how she didn't know what he saw in her and how she'd look in the mirror sometimes and get scared that he'd see her how she saw herself – tomboyish and gangly. Then she told him that she was scared that he'd move onto someone else when the novelty wore off, like there was a time limit that was being shortened by them doing everything long-distance.

"Sometimes I feel like crap for doing this to you," she continued. "It doesn't seem fair to put you through this when I don't know what's going to happen or even where this is all going. But the more I beat myself up about it, the more pointless it seemed. You've been there to help push the rock up the hill. Sometimes I look around the classroom and I know I shouldn't be there. School's never been my thing and I'm probably keeping a chair from someone who would get something more out of it than I do." She let a breath out and looked up at him with a smile. Her eyes stung a little, and it was because of the calm, understanding look he was giving her instead of the cold. "But you picked me. You've been with me for this long and you never gave up. You and Yukiko and Souji never let me bow out or stop going for what I wanted just because it was too hard, and even after all of the crap we've gone through so far, you haven't seemed to regret it."

"Because I don't," he told her softly, moving in closer and giving her the most sincere smile she'd ever seen on anyone. "Even with everything that's going on at school, trying to work my time out so we can talk and I can help you, I'd be worse off without you, not better."

"I used to wonder if this was just a fad, or if things were going to crash and burn because I'd do something stupid. I felt like you deserved more than me." Her eyes narrowed even as she smiled. "But that's over now. I don't want to keep wondering when it's going to go wrong, or I'll never see all the good stuff that we can do together. I'd drive myself crazy and then things really would turn into a mess. I guess what I'm saying is... I'd like to be there for you, as your girlfriend. For real, with no regrets."

She expected him to smile brilliantly at her, maybe move in and try to kiss her, not caring that they were on a bridge with tonnes of people around them during the busiest season of the year. He'd be confident and fun with that killer smile and they could go and get some dinner together. Like a beef bowl with a side order of steak.

But he didn't. He smiled, and it was pretty damn handsome, but his eyes were still clouded. "Since we're having this talk, I have some things that I need to address."

She noticed that he hadn't addressed what she'd said, but she wanted to give him a chance to speak. "Sure. What is it?"

"Are you sure you want to be with me? You say that you can't do much when you're here and I'm there, but it's the same with me. You could find someone closer to home, someone more available. I want to think that helping you is enough, but you should be able to go to parties and hang out instead of staying in on the weekend and having a relationship with a text screen. No matter what I want to do when we get the chance to be together, it's not fair to you to only do those things whenever the holidays line up. This is supposed to be the best chance of your life to expand your horizons and live things up, after all."

"You've made me a priority in your life when you could have left at any time," she told him firmly, without any hesitation. She was already thinking of her schedule and working out things she could do to improve how they communicated, like texting him on her spare time, even if it was just to encourage him in a class or talk about her day. Souji and Yukiko talked over their computers and watched the same movies so they'd have something else to speak about. She could do that and talk to her sensei at the dojo to learn more about the stuff Kou was studying. It was interesting when he explained it, and she didn't want to be left behind. "I'll do the same. You're in my corner, I'm in yours, and this is where I want to be."

"You're okay with how things are?" he inquired softly.

"Are you okay with dating an insecure tomboy who loves martial arts?" she replied, almost as a challenge.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Neither would I."

He chuckled then, a genuine sound that lit up his face and cleared his eyes to those brilliant blues that made her heart flutter every time.

"What is it?"

"I just had a thought," he began. "We're talking about how hard things are with us being apart, but things could fall apart even if we were living in the same place. Could be that your kung-fu movies would drive me crazy, or you'd hate me for leaving the lights on at night or how I clean up after dinner or something. Being apart might be the best thing of all for us."

"I think we can handle a few small bumps in the road. Even if the odds are a bit crazy." She snorted just then, a stray thought coming to mind. "Not as bad as Yosuke's, though. He'll be single forever, I swear."

"You're worried about him," Kou jibed. "You'd lose sleep if he ended up like that."

"Not a chance," she protested. "He'll just call me and whine in a few years, or he'll ask me to hook him up with a friend or something. He's hopeless, pure and simple."

"He threatened me when I asked him about you, you know," he told her. "Back in Inaba. Like everyone else, I thought you two were going out so Souji dragged me over to talk to him."

"I didn't know that," Chie admitted, frowning at the idea of those two meddling in her love life. Souji was pretty solid, but Yosuke... "What do you mean he threatened you? Did he say he'd beat you up or something?"

"Just as I said. He told me that if I was going to go out with you, I'd better do it right and not screw it up or he'd find me and make me regret it. Right there in the lunch area at Junes. I'm pretty sure Souji was thinking the same thing, even if he never said it."

Chie groaned and wanted to bury her face in her hands. She loved her friends, but she didn't need them to be such mother hens. Daddy was bad enough about stuff like that; she'd had to be very cautious about broaching the subject of dating in the first place. Sure, Daddy had been okay with her going out with Kou once they'd met a few times, but there had been guys who'd asked around about her, and Daddy hadn't taken it very well at the time.

"I'm glad they did that," Kou continued, surprising her. "It helped give me some perspective."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never done this before," he admitted without hesitation. "Going out with someone, I mean. No one's ever really mattered this much to me in the past, so I had no idea what to do. Souji and Yosuke made it clear that half-measures and guessing my way through things wasn't going to cut it. The more they pushed me, the more seriously I had to take it, and I've got nothing against the results so far."

Hearing him say those words made her melt a little inside, and she let herself blush and shuffle in place. It was a girly gesture, but out of anyone in the world, her boyfriend was allowed to see her like this. "I'd like to hear you say that more," she told him, trying to contain her excitement. "Could we get some dinner? Talk about it over a beef bowl?"

"And then hit up a movie?" he suggested. "I got some tickets."

"That's moving pretty fast," she noted.

"I had some help. You wouldn't believe me if I told you who from," he smirked.

She looked at him for a moment before one name crossed her mind, and then she shook her head. "You're right, I probably wouldn't, and I'm not going to give him any credit no matter how much help he gave you."

"That's pretty cruel, you know. Actually, he said that you'd probably say that, so he's got you."

Chie frowned. She'd have to make Yosuke pay for meddling like this, especially since he had her in a situation where she couldn't get him back. If he'd guessed that she'd turn down his support, then taking said support would make him right either way. "Just don't tell him," she decided. "He's bad enough as he is."

"Deal," Kou chuckled, leaning back toward the bridge railing and gesturing for her to follow. "Come here for a sec."

"What do you need?" she inquired, walking up to him. She was surprised when he took a step up to her, his free hand going around her and pulling her close. She squeaked in surprise, but the sound died off halfway through when she smelled his cologne – light and clear, like a spring morning after a good rain. Miles away from the crap those girls were soaked in. "Kou?" she murmured quietly.

"You're not allowed to think that you're not contributing to this relationship," he told her gently. "Not ever again. The only people who know this are Souji and Daisuke, but when I froze up back in school, it wasn't because I had a crush on Yukiko-san; it was because I had a crush on you. You've always been an amazing person, right from the day I first saw you, so you're not allowed to say that you're not worth the trouble or that I deserve to be with someone who you think suits me better. You're the girl I want, and I'm not giving up on this, so don't think I'm humouring you or just in it for the cheap thrills. No more doubts, okay? Your boyfriend forbids it."

Chie was getting redder, and her grin was getting wider, with every sentence he said. By the end of it she wanted to shout and hug him and do a dozen other things all at once. Only one gesture really would have gotten her feelings across, however. She leaned in and hugged him hard, burying her face into his shoulder and inhaling his scent and his presence and everything that was him just then, burning it into her memory for when those doubts arose. Because they would, but now she had a way to fight them off, and she was very confident in her chances. "Okay," she murmured, looking up at him in the bright Kyoto light. "Back at you. You're not allowed to think you're not helping either. Maybe it's not a normal relationship, but if I wanted normal I wouldn't have left Inaba in the first place. I'm in this if you are, so let's do this together, all right?"

"Deal," he replied, leaning down and laying a gentle kiss on the top of her head that made Chie giggle like she'd been tickled. They held each other until the moment passed, and it would have taken a demolition crew to get the smiles off their faces. Without a word, Kou turned them toward the restaurant again, citing the movie's start time and insisting that he pay for her dinner. Chie beat down her protests before they could arise. Now that he was here, they had time to spend together. She'd buy breakfast tomorrow to keep things even, and maybe spend some time in the arcade or at the museum with him, something to pamper him while she could. His arm was firmly around her, and she returned the gesture while leaning her head against his shoulder. They spoke as they walked, slower than usual but the words didn't matter. Sometimes the sentences faded off halfway through, other times they meandered in new directions entirely, but neither really noticed.

Chie didn't care if they were mismatched or what the people around them thought. The last thing on her mind was how they looked together. All that she knew was that this felt right, and she wasn't going to let it go.

\---

"So you like having her there, do you?" Souji asked Nanako, trying to inject some cheer into his voice that he didn't feel.

"Yep! She's nice and a lot of fun to be around!" Nanako chirped on the line. "I was worried that Auntie would have trouble here or wouldn't know what to do, but so far everything's been great!"

"I'm glad to hear that," Souji replied, biting his tongue a little. He didn't want to put a damper on the girl's fun, especially when it was so clear that she was enjoying her time with her aunt, but he couldn't help the anger that turned his stomach at the thought of his mother being in Inaba. He'd thought that he might have some time to visit Nanako and Doujima before he had to go back to Fujisawa, maybe take a quick trip out by train and then fly back in time for work and the new semester. His mother being in Inaba, probably staying with Doujima and Nanako rather than at a hotel, strangled that idea in the cradle. He didn't want to fight with her, and he definitely didn't want to bring that kind of tension to Nanako. The girl sounded like she was having the time of her life and he wasn't going to ruin that for her, especially at Christmas.

He didn't like cutting off his plans like this where his family was concerned, and he liked even less what it said about him that he was letting his mother's choices dictate what he did. Were Nanako and Doujima so low on his priority list that he was willing to brush them off just because things were hard for him? Was he this afraid of his parents? Yukiko's words about him running from his problems instead of facing them echoed in his ears, and he bit back some of the harsher words in his vocabulary at how on point she was.

"Big Bro?" Nanako asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, pushing those thoughts aside. He wouldn't go to Inaba now, but he'd have more time once he got through this semester, and he was already considering some ideas on how to spend his summer with the others. That would include Nanako if he could manage it. "I just had some things on my mind."

"Is everything all right?"

"It will be," he assured her, more warmth coming into his voice. "I'm glad you're helping Auntie out."

"She said we could stay in touch after she leaves!" Nanako gushed. "I'm sure she's busy in Tokyo, but I'm going to try and call her or text her when she's not busy."

Souji bit back a remark about how he'd been trying to do that for as long as Nanako had been alive and he hadn't succeeded. He didn't want her to get her hopes up, but neither would he be the one to break them down. If anything, he hoped that his mother kept her promise to the girl. He could handle how things were, but Nanako deserved to have something good come out of this. "I'm sure she'll appreciate that. Has she been getting along with your dad?"

"Dad said that they had a long talk, but that was part of being a family," Nanako noted a bit dubiously. "I think he meant it like when you and him talked after I went to bed."

Souji shook his head at the memory. Her wording was subtle, but the reference was clear. She meant when he and Doujima had argued about the importance of being a family and how Souji couldn't agree with how Doujima was handling his role as Nanako's father. The discussions had gotten heated at times, and he'd hoped that Nanako hadn't heard some of the things that were said. A vain hope, apparently. "You were supposed to be asleep, you know."

"I couldn't help it; you were talking pretty loud sometimes."

Souji didn't have a reply to that. Under all that cheer, Nanako was pretty observant, and she wasn't the little girl who'd hid behind her father at the Inaba train station. She was growing up, faster than he expected, and he'd have to make sure he didn't treat her like a child. "Are they doing all right now?"

"Yep. Dad said that we're going to take Auntie to the shrine tomorrow, so we can spend time together like a family!"

That was the keyword of the day, it seemed. A lot of the truths he'd cleaved to about his family for years were beginning to take on water and list heavily to starboard, and he wasn't sure what to do about it now. He hadn't heard anything from Naoto or Kanji so hopefully nothing had gone up in flames in his absence, but as calm as he was trying to be about this whole situation, he was losing sleep when he thought of everything that could go wrong. "Make sure you enjoy yourself, and look after Auntie, okay?"

"I will!" The girl's good humour hadn't wavered, and sometimes Souji didn't know where she found so much enthusiasm.

"I have to go, but you take care."

"Okay! Thanks for calling, and love you, Big Bro!"

"I love you too, Nanako," he answered before cutting the call and giving a heavy sigh that clouded white in the cold air. "Here's to hoping nothing happens, I guess," he told himself as he leaned against the railing above a busy footpath, not terribly convincing even to himself.

"Personal problems?" Mei-san inquired from where she was leaning a few feet away, looking over speculatively and almost blending in with the sky thanks to all the grey she was wearing.

Souji glanced over at her, trying not to let her see that she'd startled him. "When did you get here?"

"Around the time you looked like you bit into a lemon," the woman replied dryly, dressed in her layers and heavy coat that didn't hide how slender she was. "You seemed happy so I thought you were talking to Yukiko, but then you seemed like you'd heard about a stock market crash."

Souji shook his head. He was getting careless if someone he'd known for only a few months could sneak up on him this easily. "It's complicated," he told her, hoping to avoid talking about the situation at large.

"Family usually is," she observed. "Feel like sharing?"

Souji snorted, in no mood to entertain jokes. "Do you really want to hear about my problems?"

"You've usually got it together, so it's easy to see that something's bothering you. I'm curious."

"You mean nosy, don't you?" Souji didn't try to keep the bite out of his voice.

"Same thing," she shot back without a trace of hesitation or shame. "So? Let's hear it."

His eyes narrowed. He'd hoped she would take the hint and drop the matter. "I appreciate the concern, but my life is my own business. What does it matter to you?"

"It matters to me because you're important to Yukiko," Mei-san told him, blunt and unapologetic, "and she's automatically involved with whatever's happening to you, whether you want it or not. If you go off the reservation, it's going to ruin her. She's a good friend and a great person overall, so I'd rather you talk about whatever's bothering you so you don't explode from trying to keep it all to yourself."

Souji gave a frustrated breath. First Megumi, now Mei-san. Why did it seem like every time he turned around, more people wanted to know about his past? It was nice having friends this close, but talking about his problems this much was starting to get old. "It's personal, and not very pleasant."

"I gathered that much," she remarked. "You wouldn't be like this if it was all sunshine and rainbows, and that probably means you need to talk about it more than anything."

"Maybe your assessment of me is wrong," he suggested dryly. "Maybe I'm shallow and self-centred, so the small things are what set me off."

She shook her head. "Yukiko wouldn't put up with a guy like that. You're all she talks about, and that wouldn't happen if you were some sort of trust-fund baby with a silver spoon in his mouth. Also, shallow people who've never faced a hard day in their lives don't have the self-awareness to know that their problems are small; they think every little bump in the road is a catastrophe."

"That's pretty insightful. Sounds like you've been through it yourself. Care to share?" he offered.

"Maybe some other time." Her shrug was off-hand and entirely shameless. "But I asked you first."

He snorted at her bluntness. "That's some nice logic you've got there."

"Thank you. I'm rather happy with it."

Souji knew that he wasn't going to get out of this short of blowing her off and walking away, and while there was a part of himself that wanted to do just that, another part knew that he could trust Mei-san and Natsuki-san. They were unorthodox by nature, but they had been good friends to Chie and Yukiko, and the time Souji had spent chatting with Mei-san over the computer, discussing business portfolios and economics, had told him that she was solid. The fact that she was being this direct, almost antagonistic, when she'd been welcoming up to now told him that she was doing it deliberately, probably because she knew that being nice would have given him an out. She wanted him to get past his problems faster so he wouldn't worry Yukiko.

He didn't want to talk about his problems, however. They were his problems, and he could handle them on his own. But even entertaining that thought proved it false. Ever since his mother first called, he could feel things slipping out of his control. He felt like these new developments with his parents, even if they didn't go any further than they already had, were changing too many things for him to keep in line. Maybe he did need to talk to someone about it. Someone who didn't have a stake in this mess, who wouldn't meet him halfway like his friends were wont to do. He gave another sigh, braced himself, and told her about his unexpected encounter with his mother, the ramifications that the meeting had on his situation, and how he was concerned about where this was going to go in the future. He threw in his concerns about his father for good measure, just to see how she'd react. Baring himself like this wasn't something he particularly wanted to do, but she'd asked what was bothering him, so she was going to get it. "Does that help?" he inquired when he was done.

She looked at him pensively before nodding, blowing smoke from the cigarette she'd lit while he was talking. She'd considerately moved downwind from him when she brought her smokes out. "Yes, it does."

"Good," he told her shortly, feeling raw after talking about everything. "Then we don't need to talk about it anymore."

"There is one thing I'll say," she told him before he could move away. "I think it's at the heart of your problem, actually."

"And what's that?"

She flicked some ash from her smoke and turned to stare him in the eye. "You need to stop being such a control freak."

Souji straightened, almost recoiled, at her words. "Excuse me?" He bristled, teeth gritting.

She held up a hand to keep him from continuing, if only for a moment. "Let me explain. I don't say that as a bad thing, or at least not as a completely bad thing. Given what you've said about your parents, I can see why you have the opinions that you do, and I'd probably have ended up the same way. In a lot of ways, it's a good thing you are the way you are. It helps you plan things and make good predictions based on the information you have. It also helps you stay steady when things do go sideways. But there's a bad side to that trait, and this is one of those cases. Everything you just talked about, with your mother and your father and where Yukiko fits in, it's all too big for you to handle. It's too big for anyone to handle. All sorts of things are going to happen outside your control, and that's how life is. If your mother's in Inaba, then she might run into Yukiko's parents and some of your friends, and it sounds like she's already making nice with your cousin. Lots of things could happen, and any one of them could blow the top off of your plans. The thing is, you can't change that stuff from here. Even if you were there right now, you probably wouldn't be able to keep everything under control, and trying to would be a 24/7 job. That's not an existence you want to have. You have your own life to live, and that means working and going to school and making Yukiko happy instead of running around putting out fires. Letting this stuff dictate what you do will cause a lot of problems in the future, and it won't solve the overall issue in the end."

"And what do you suggest?" Souji growled. "That I just let it happen?"

"You pretty much have to at this point, don't you?" Mei-san pointed out, not backing down. "Whatever you think of your mother, she's her own person. She has her own resources and things she wants to do, so unless you plan on locking her in a cage somewhere, things are going to happen outside your ability to control. Same as your father, if he comes back into the picture."

"Don't even talk about that," Souji told her, turning to stare at the busy Kyoto street below.

"That's what I mean," Mei-san pointed out after an inhale. "You're afraid of what's going to happen, and maybe you have good reason to be, but you don't want to let other people handle the consequences of what happens. People like your cousin and your uncle and your friends. Especially your friends. They're involved in this situation whether you like it or not, and I think you need to let go a little and trust them to act in your best interest. If they are your friends, then they won't stab you in the back or ditch you just because thing get hard, and it's not good for them if you turn yourself inside out trying to control something that's bigger than you."

Souji was quiet for a while, letting the words sink in and cool his blood a little. "That's not what I'm worried about," he admitted. "What will people think if things go wrong because of my parents? What if they have their own lives and they're doing great, but I'm what drags them down?"

"You won't," Mei-san assured him immediately.

Souji shook his head. "You don't know that. You don't know my father."

"No, but I do know your friends, and they won't take crap from him lying down. Yukiko definitely won't. Neither will Chie, and Risette and Hanamura are pretty tough too. You're treating them like they're all going to go down without a fight as soon as things turn bad, and that's not who they are. You're the sort of person who's been in their corner all this time, but they'll do the same for you. It's easy to see just by watching how you guys act around each other." He was silent, so she took another drag. "If you believe in fate or cosmic coincidences, then this stuff with your mother is probably happening so that you learn that you can trust them and let things happen, no matter how much it scares you. Shielding them from problems isn't going to help them, and it's not going to help you either."

Souji bit his tongue. Mei-san's words cut past his fears for the others and all the crap he'd been keeping to himself. She was right when she said that he was afraid of losing them, of bringing it all down around them – of watching them fall and die right in front of him like when he'd faced Izanami. That cold, horrific moment when silent emptiness occupied the spaces where his friends and comrades had stood. The drawn-out minutes as reality sank its teeth into him and he couldn't deny what had happened. The screams that burned in his chest and the desire to die with them rather than lose them and live. He'd brought them back, he'd protected them and together they'd fought Izanami and prevailed, but the loss he felt, even if the others didn't go through it or remember it, hadn't gone away. For those brutally long few minutes, it had been real, and their victory hadn't changed that.

He choked out a breath, pushing those memories down. Was this what the others had gone through when they'd faced their Shadows? Having their deepest, darkest sides revealed to them and to others and being unable to cram those problems back into the hole they'd been born from? The fear, the loss of control, seeing the things they loved waver in front of them like a mirage about to vanish, had this been why they'd denied their Shadows? If so, then Souji couldn't blame them for reacting like they did. To quote Yosuke, it sucked having to face yourself.

Mei-san was right, though. He needed to let this go, or it was going to fester and slowly poison him. Yukiko had told him the same thing, but hearing it from someone who barely knew him, someone who seemed able to read him and wasn't afraid to tell him what she saw, made it clear. He had to let go of those fears, or at least stop letting them govern his actions. He had a life to look forward to, a life with Yukiko and Nanako and all of his friends, and he needed to trust them enough to let them help him if things got that bad. He needed to trust them enough to let things happen on their own. "You make some good points," he began after he collected his thoughts.

She raised an eyebrow, apparently skeptical. "But?"

Souji shook his head, feeling his head clear and his emotions wind down. "No buts. Those are good points. There's a lot of stuff that I have to let go of. It's just that it's happening all at once and out of the blue, so..." he trailed off.

"No one expects you to drop those problems right away," she told him. "Being aware of the situation in the first place and knowing what the stakes are is good practice, and you might end up having to deal with those problems later on. But there's a difference between being cautious of what might happen and being afraid before it actually does. Have fun with Yukiko and make the most of your life. Let your mother do what she wants. Worry about this stuff when it happens, not if it does."

Souji chuckled. "Do you moonlight as a shrink?"

"I took a few psych courses last year," she admitted. "It helps with negotiations when you can get a read on people. And they were easy credits."

"Figures."

"No charge," she told him calmly.

Souji let out a heavy breath, straightening. The fear was still there, but he'd keep it under control. One step at a time, that was the best he could do right now if he didn't want to crack. He glanced over at the woman. "Why did you come here?"

Mei-san put out her cigarette and flicked the butt into a nearby trash can. "Yukiko wanted to let you know that we have dinner plans. Natsuki dragged her off to go shopping and she didn't hear back from you when she texted you, so I'm playing messenger."

A messenger with some impressive timing, given what had been on his mind. "An apt description," Souji noted, checking his phone and seeing that, yes, he had missed Yukiko's texts.

She tilted her head, looking curious for the first time since they began their conversation. "How so?"

He shook his head, brushing the inquiry off. "It's nothing. Just a bad joke. Where are we going for dinner?"

"A place where you don't pay for a meal and get a lot of garnish with an empty plate," Mei-san told him dryly. "Natsuki found it a while ago and the reviews have been promising. It's near your hotel, and we promised to take Yukiko out after classes were done."

"That's nice of you," he noted.

"We invited Chie too," Mei-san continued, "but she seems to be busy with her man tonight, so we'll have to settle with you two."

The woman's steady delivery made Souji smile in spite of the mood he'd been in before. Whatever else happened down the road, Yukiko and Chie had found some very good friends in these two. "I'll try to make up for her absence, in that case."

"Glad to hear it." Mei-san led him down the street toward a small park where they saw Yukiko and Natsuki-san – dressed in red and strong splashes of colour, respectively – chatting and carrying some shopping bags. Mei-san sighed. "I hope she didn't buy too much."

"Is that a common problem?"

"Not really," she admitted. "Natsuki's pretty picky about what she spends money on. Her problem comes down to space and how much she doesn't have."

From the times he'd gone shopping with Yukiko, Souji knew that she wasn't a big spender on frivolous things. For someone who grew up with the space of a ryokan around her, she was rather particular about what she bought and what she didn't, seeming to have found her preferred look and sticking to it rather than changing with the fads around her. Though to be fair, Souji had been surprised to see her wearing jeans when he'd arrived. Maybe being in the city was expanding her horizons. He liked the looks she'd adopted so far, so perhaps she'd continue to surprise him.

The girls came up to them, chattering about something and laughing at a joke Natsuki-san had told. When Yukiko approached, she slipped into her place at Souji's side, wrapping an arm around his and leaning in close. "Are you okay now?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You seemed like you were stressed about something, so we didn't want to impose," Natsuki-san supplied. "Mei volunteered to get you and see if you'd cooled off."

Souji sighed in resignation. Either his facade was well and truly cracking, or he'd subconsciously chosen to associate with people who could read him at a glance. He looked over at the slender woman who was presently blushing a bit and not meeting his eyes. "Volunteered, huh?"

"Don't read too much into it," she grumbled as she glanced away.

"Perish the thought." Souji squeezed Yukiko's hand and gave her a sincere smile. "I'm fine. I just needed some space to clear my head."

Yukiko looked at him closely for a second before nodding and leaning against his shoulder. "Good. I was worried you'd be stuck in your head after the other night with your mother."

Souji didn't say anything, grumbling on the inside about observant women in his life.

"We're going to dinner once we drop these off," Natsuki-san told him. "We promised Yukio and Chie once we were done our exams."

"Mei-san mentioned that. Where are we going?"

Natsuki-san told him and Souji recognized it as a chain he'd been to when he'd lived in the Kansai region when he was young. "That's a good choice," he noted, looking it up. According to his phone, the branch they were going to was within two blocks of where he was staying with Yukiko. "What time is our reservation?"

"As soon as we get there, if we leave now," Mei-san replied, checking her watch and looking at Natsuki-san. "We're going to be late if you don't drop that stuff off."

"So you'll help me carry them?" Natsuki-san asked hopefully, holding out half of her bags.

Mei-san cursed under her breath, but still acquiesced. "We'll meet you there," she told Yukiko and Souji a bit shortly. "See you soon."

Yukiko led him back toward the hotel, quiet and holding onto his arm. Souji enjoyed the closeness but he knew she was wondering about his absence that afternoon, maybe concerned even if she wouldn't say it. "You have some good friends," he observed, breaking the silence when they were in the elevator. "Natsuki-san and Mei-san, I mean."

She perked up, even if it was a neutral topic and not addressing what she knew the problem was. "You like them?"

"They're certainly interesting. Very colourful." Mei-san didn't need to wear something that wasn't monochrome to have some variety to her, after all.

"That describes Natsuki-san," Yukiko agreed. "I don't think I've seen anyone so attached to fashion and clothes before. I can't follow half of what she says when she talks about labels and manufacturers."

"You should take Rise with you next time," Souji suggested. "They'd have a field day."

"I'd feel sorry for whoever got to carry the bags," she giggled, tightening her arm around his. "Would you come with me if I invited you? Could I rent you out for the day?"

Souji gave her a crooked smile, brushing aside the mental image of being loaded down like a packhorse. "Only if I get to see you in whatever you buy," he replied as they entered their room.

She blushed, returning his smile with one of her own, still new and a bit awkward but undeniably sincere. "That goes without saying." She detached from his arm only to hug him directly, turning her head so he could hear her. "Are you okay? I was worried you'd be fighting with your mother or something."

"I wanted to talk to Nanako," Souji explained, reflexively bringing his arms around her and running a hand through her hair. Being this close to her slowly released the tension in him like a leak in a water jug. "I'm not sure if I'll catch her before Christmas."

"How did that go?"

"She's doing all right," Souji replied, not saying just who he was talking about.

She looked up at him, concern showing in those dark eyes. "And you?"

He couldn't resist her when she looked like that. There was something about her that made the truth come to the surface, and she'd been able to do that since they'd first met. He was beginning to wonder if she was conditioning him to not be able to resist her when they were together, and if that was the case, he didn't really mind. "I'm trying. It's not very much fun, and it's probably not going to be very easy, but I'll give it a shot."

"I'll be here if you need help," she promised. "We can always talk about these things, whatever's bothering you."

"Same to you," he replied. "You have to have some problems of your own, and I wouldn't be much use to you if I didn't help you through things."

"I don't think anything on my end is that bad compared to what you're going through," she noted.

"That doesn't stop the problems from being there," he rebuked her gently. "This is a two-way street, remember? I'll try to talk about this stuff, but you have to do the same." She was silent for a moment, and Souji sighed. He knew that she was trying to find a way to put him first and avoid "burdening him" with her problems. "This is non-negotiable. You have to pitch in too, or I'll ask Mei-san to keep tabs on you."

"If you do, I'll just bribe her with some sake," she replied, looking up with an impish smile.

"You're being a brat again," he growled in good humour.

"You love me for it," she sing-songed.

"I love you no matter what," he corrected, smiling at her rosy blush and goofy smile. He hadn't missed the fact that she'd dodged the point at hand. He wouldn't forget that, and he knew he'd have to cover this matter before he left.

"You're cheating again," she chided quietly as she turned red. "You know that's not fair."

"All's fair," he began as he looked at the clock on the wall. "It's a shame we have a reservation to keep," he told her quietly, slipping a hand down to her backside.

"Mei-san and Natsuki-san would get angry if we showed up late," she murmured regretfully, resting against his chest and looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "And they'd know what we were doing."

"So?"

She seemed to genuinely consider it, the air heating up until she shook her head. "They promised to take me out after classes were over. They've been looking forward to it, so I don't want to give them the wrong idea. But you're here for a while still. We'll have time for that."

"I'll hold you to that," he promised quietly.

"You'd better." she murmured back.

The air still sizzled, but began to cool down a bit, and their amour turned into comfort as they stood together, soaking in how the other felt. "We should get going soon," he told her after a few silent minutes like that.

"We should," she agreed in a whisper.

"Do you need to change?"

"Probably."

"Then you should get to it."

"Yep."

He wasn't sure if she was tired at this point, or if she was just acting needy. "Or are you going to fall asleep?"

"You could carry me to bed if I did," she offered.

"You're being a brat again."

"Mm hm."

Souji sighed good-naturedly, pulling back and prying her arms off of him. "Come on, let's get to it."

Yukiko let him go reluctantly, pouting a bit before leaning up for a kiss. "Give me a minute?"

"I'll give you two," Souji replied, feeling generous. "If you fall asleep I'll get a bucket of water."

She waved him out, going for her bags while he waited in the hallway by the door. She wasn't done in two minutes, but to her credit, she wasn't much longer. Souji had heard stories from his classmates and coworkers about how long girlfriends could take to get ready, trying on every dress or outfit and still not being happy with it. He kept to himself that Yukiko wasn't like that, seeming to know what she looked good in or what she wanted to wear and getting into it without too much fanfare. Even when she wore that dress when they had dinner with his mother, she took far less time than he'd expected given how much work she'd put into her appearance. This time she wore a familiar combination of skirt and leggings with a button-up blouse as red as a carnation. To him it felt like an evolution of her usual style, different without her usual cardigan but more like an adult without it. "Thanks for waiting," she told him as she approached and slipped into her shoes. "See? No water required."

"I'll save it for next time," he promised.

"Mei-san and Natsuki-san should be there soon," she told him, tugging him toward the door. "Let's go."

Souji smiled, wondering where her lethargy had gone. "Lead the way."

The restaurant, when they arrived a few minutes later, was a classy affair that was filled with the lights and sights of the season, but wasn't too crowded. Mei-san and Natsuki-san met them just outside the door and together they found a booth that had as much privacy as one could hope for. When Souji looked through the menu, he gave a mental sight of relief; he wouldn't go broke if he covered Yukiko's dinner as well as his own.

"Drinks are the best way to unwind after exams," Mei-san explained when the topic of libations came up.

Souji was a bit dubious, but he curbed the urge to make any suggestions. He didn't want to come across as the control freak Mei-san had pegged him as before, not where Yukiko was involved. This was her time off too. Luckily, what she ordered didn't sound very hard. He'd never had a Tokyo Iced Tea before, but it sounded pretty benign.

They placed their orders and struck up conversation, talking about their various classes and instructors, the hijinks of their classmates, and how they were glad that the semester was over. When the drinks came, Souji kept a judicious eye on his fiancée but she seemed to be doing well. Her words were fine and she was in the middle of the conversation, talking about some of her classmates and the various projects they'd had to do.

Their food came and he relaxed, enjoying a stiff cocktail that Mizushima had introduced him to during one after-hours bar run. Everyone, including his fiancée, dug into their food as they socialized, so he wasn't too concerned about anyone drinking on an empty stomach. When the conversation turned to him, he added what he could around his dinner, talking about work and giving a condensed, family-friendly version of how he'd landed the job in the first place. He let Natsuki-san take the conversation over when a passing customer's jewelry caught her eye. That brought up a discussion about various shops and designers in the area who dealt in earrings and necklaces.

"Anyway," Natsuki-san was saying, "we were talking to them about their collection, and you wouldn't believe what they paid for it."

Souji was going to ask when Yukiko bumped into his side. "I know, I know!" she interjected, her words slightly slurred. "The collec... coll... Hmm... Colek shin? Koleksh in? Call lection!" she tittered, bright-eyed and tripping into an Amagi giggle fit as she swayed back and forth.

Souji looked at her with dawning horror, glancing at her glass. It was only a third of the way down, but he remembered that she'd ordered a second one after praising the first for tasting good and being suitably sweet. "Yukiko, are you all right?"

"Fiiiine," she replied, flushed and shuffling over to his side. "Bett'r than ev'r."

She'd taken possession of his arm again, so he asked Mei-san to pass him her drink, trying to ignore the amused gleam in the girls' eyes as they watched them. He took a few sips before he tasted the bite of the alcohol, then quickly looked up just how many ounces of liquor were in a Tokyo Iced Tea. His eyes widened when he found out and did the mental calculations.

"Is there a problem?" Mei-san asked calmly.

"She's trashed," Souji noted.

"I'm not!" Yukiko objected.

"Is she a lightweight?" Mei-san inquired, raising an eyebrow but not looking very concerned.

"She's completely new at drinking, to my knowledge," Souji replied, his hand slipping down to Yukiko's waist to hold her steady. "And she's about six ounces in, assuming they don't cut their drinks here."

Natsuki-san looked her friend over, giving a shrug. "If this is as bad as she gets, then I don't see why it's–"

"Meeeiii-saaaaan," Yukiko drunkenly objected, pushing even closer into Souji's side. "You can't have my fiancé."

Mei-san blinked, as did Natsuki-san. "What?"

"Going to talk to him, vol'nteering an' saying he's having problems," Yukiko clarified unsteadily. "You can't have him. He b'longs to me."

"No one said anything like that," Souji informed his girl, very glad that the booths and tables were as far apart as they were. He'd prefer not to draw a crowd in case Yukiko went further.

"Good!" the Amagi heiress declared before taking a long draw from her drink. She kept it out of Souji's reach so he couldn't take it away from her, and neither of the ladies moved to help. "No one's 'llowed to say anything I don't say! King's orders! No, Queen's!"

Memories of Club Escapade ran through Souji's mind. The only positive thing that ran through his head, fleeting as it was, was that at least Rise wasn't drinking with them. "Oh god..."

Natsuki-san was chuckling, ignoring Souji's pointed stare. "King? Does she mean what I think she means?"

Souji was going to reply when Yukiko drew her legs up from under her and hugged him tight, rubbing her face against his chest like she was trying to burrow into him. "Mmm, miiine," she insisted, stroking his chest.

Mei-san covered her mouth as she laughed, looking over at him speculatively. "Is this the first time she's been like this?"

"The first time with real booze, yes," Souji confirmed, trying to hold Yukiko's hand in place and not attract any more attention. She used the chance to steal more sips of her drink.

"Real booze?" the woman asked, growing even more amused. "Sounds like a story. Care to share?"

"Not right now, no."

"We shuld get some chopsticks," Yukiko suggested, perking up and looking around. "Rem'mber last time? What did we... ohhh, I remember."

Souji clamped his hand onto her hip, preventing her from crawling onto the seat. "This is close enough, sweetie."

"But I can hug you, riiight? You're sitting right next t' me..."

Souji looked at his dinner companions, blushing in spite of himself when he saw how hard they were trying not to laugh out loud. Natsuki-san was fiddling with her phone and he could only wonder how many pictures she'd gotten already "Would you mind if we cut this short? We'll make it up to you tomorrow."

Yukiko squirmed up against him, managing to half-crawl into his lap and trying to kiss his neck while he was speaking.

"I think that's for the best," Mei-san noted as she poured herself another drink. "They'll definitely kick us out if she starts taking her clothes off."

"Please don't give her any ideas," he muttered, shuffling toward the end of the booth. "Let's get you to bed."

"Heeeeyy, you can't leave me," Yukiko objected, pouting against his chest where she refused to let go. More than half of her drink was gone now.

"We're not leaving you here."

"I jus' heard you! You did!"

"I said we'll both leave," Souji clarified. "You and me."

That seemed to calm her down. "Mmmm, okay. You can take me w'th you when you leave. To Fujis... Fugesas... home with you. Th'n we can be together forever."

"At least she's a happy drunk," Natsuki-san offered. "It would be a lot worse if she got angry. Or cried. Crying's the worst."

The idea of Yukiko angry and trying to incinerate him in a drunken rage was enough to sober him up in a heartbeat. The questions he'd have to answer, about why she kept shouting "Perrshona!" and talking about an ancient Japanese goddess, would have been mortifying. "That's really not helping."

"You can go to w'rk and I'll cook f'r you and raise the kids," Yukiko continued as her dark eyes glittered. "No more trav'lling and long d'stance. We can live happily ever after!"

"Do you have any suggestions for sobering her up?" Souji inquired.

"Put her to bed and let her sleep it off," Mei-san suggested simply, not moving from her seat while she watched with clear amusement. "Give her water and aspirin in the morning, and keep a bucket next to the bed."

Souji was trying very hard not to think about the next morning. Hopefully Yukiko's hangover wouldn't be too bad. "Thanks."

"You're ign'ring me again," Yukiko pouted, hugging him tighter.

"Not at all," he replied, hugging her and stroking her back.

She purred like a cat, oblivious to angles Natsuki-san was getting with her phone. "Mmmm, good." Just then the sports station being shown on the TV near them changed to the news and she looked up with a crooked smile. "Mmm, that's it!"

"What?"

"We c'n go into the TV! That'd make you feel better. It should be nice and sunny there now, right?"

Souji shook his head with a sigh.

"Into the TV?" Natsuki-san asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

"It makes sense," Mei-san noted. "You're friends with Risette, so I guess she would have taken you to a set for a show at some point."

"Pretty much," Souji agreed, deeply grateful that no one was taking Yukiko seriously.

"Sunny an' warm," his girl continued. "Maybe we could go to the beach while we're there. Oh, or we can go to the beach right now! No one would be there, right?"

"That's because it's December," he pointed out. "And it's freezing out there."

"We c'n still go swimming. Just dress up. I'll keep you nice and warm..."

Souji shook his head. There wasn't much chance of her sobering up anytime soon. "Can you help me get her out of here?" he requested of the women across the table

"Are you sure?" Mei-san inquired, her smile turning cat-like. "We don't want to spoil her fun."

"I'll help you," Natsuki-san offered. "You'll need help once she gets outside."

Souji nodded. "I appreciate it."

"We're going home?" Yukiko asked, putting her now-empty glass on the table. She shuffled over and slipped a bit, almost banging her head on the table.

"Yes. Come on," Souji coaxed, getting out of the booth and holding her hands as she rose. She swayed even more while she was on her feet, but she didn't fall over. Instead she clung to him and sighed happily. "Looks like we'll have to pick this up next time. I'll pay you back tomorrow."

"This was worth the price of admission alone," Mei-san informed him with a smirk. "Do you know if Chie handles her booze like this too?"

"Talk about that after I'm gone," he requested, holding Yukiko by one side while Natsuki-san handled the other. They managed the stairs somehow and handled their ward, who was pointing and laughing at the various holiday ornaments as they walked, as best they could. While Yukiko slurred and shuffled along, Natsuki-san seemed to adjust to her movement like a natural. The woman almost seemed able to guess where Yukiko was going to move and shifted along with her, keeping her moving forward far easier than Souji could. "Not your first time taking a drunk friend home, I take it?" he asked.

"I've been to a few parties," she replied, shifting again. "She's not doing too bad. You wouldn't believe how bad some of the first-years can be."

Souji could remember how bad some of his classmates had gotten after mid-terms. The cheers and shouting coming from the campus bar had drowned out the loud music with almost no effort at all. "I'll take your word for it."

"Wheee, so warm," Yukiko sighed when they entered the hotel lobby. "Muuuch better."

"Are you sure you want to use the elevator?" Natsuki-san asked. "That's not always a good idea with someone this drunk."

Souji could only imagine. The motion, the changes in direction, and the closed spaces would be a nightmare if Yukiko couldn't handle it. "I don't know if the stairs are any better. We'd take forever."

"It's your choice," Natsuki-san told him with a shrug. "Just keep her facing the wall if anyone else is with you."

"That's a cheery thought," he muttered as he took Yukiko into the elevator. "I hope we didn't ruin your evening too much,"

"It's no problem," she brushed off. "Like I said, this is nothing. Mei and I'll have lots to talk about, if nothing else."

Souji sighed, but smiled with his girl in his arms. "Enjoy it. Thanks again."

She nodded and patted Yukiko on the shoulder before leaving, letting the elevator doors close. Much as he would have preferred to take care of her alone, there were other people with them, so he nudged her into the corner and hoped that any forthcoming damage would be manageable. Once the car jolted upward, however, Yukiko giggled and laughed, almost slipping off her feet as she pressed against the wall and remained oblivious to the stares from the people around her. Once they stopped, six floors below their destination, she tried to leave but ended up clinging to Souji again. Her rubbing up against him turned him red as they got more stares, but he said nothing. He gently pulled her out of the car when they did get to their floor, having to adjust to her crooked walking which had gotten much worse than before. He decided to forego decorum and swept her into his arms, amidst her laughs and giggles, to get them to the room faster.

He managed to get them into the room, somehow getting the key out and navigating the door while Yukiko started kissing his neck, and he set her onto the bed with a sigh. "You're drunk," he noted. She looked bewitching, however, with her flushed face and half-closed eyes. The low light from the window – he hadn't been able to get the room lights on – made her look even more incredible.

"Am not," she denied, looking almost lucid. "Jus' having fun."

"Liquid fun then?"

She pawed at him, pulling him close for a kiss. He tried pulling back but she was surprisingly strong and wouldn't let go. The kiss was messy, as much tongue as it was lips, and it tasted of soda and strong alcohol. Souji's resistance began to weaken as she wrapped around him, filling him up, and didn't stop kissing. He was surprised when she flipped him over, her strength less affected than he expected, and then she was on top of him, purring down his throat.

"Mmmm... Mine," she whispered as she straddled him, breath hot against his face, smelling like lust and her.

Souji was trying for some semblance of control, thinking that if they were going to do this, he'd like her to be able to remember it the next day, but those protests were dropping further and further away. Her hands stroked his chest, her blouse coming half undone at some point, and she rested more and more on him, heating him up through their clothes. She broke the kiss and leaned down to his ear, murmuring something he couldn't quite hear.

"What's that?" he asked, breathless.

"This is won'erful," she told him. "An' I love you. G'night." She collapsed on him as though her arms gave out, and in seconds her breathing had steadied.

Souji blinked, unable to process what had just happened. What... had just happened? She'd gone from affectionate to amorous to... asleep? Did things happen that fast? Was this how she was with booze?

She giggled in her sleep, curling up to him and embracing him, but she didn't wake up. He couldn't move her without waking her up, and who knew what she'd be like if she did. Souji wasn't sure whether she would be hung over or need to throw up in the middle of the night, but he wasn't in a position to do much with her on top of him.

The sound of her breathing calmed his mind, as did the scent of her hair and the feel of her warmth on his body. Mei-san had told him that he needed to learn to let things go, and whatever happened in the morning, he'd deal with it then. He was on vacation with the girl he loved, and he'd go with the flow until something went wrong. He smiled, hugged her gently and relaxed.

If something went wrong, he'd handle it. Yukiko was with him, and he felt like he could get through anything that came up now. Maybe that would change, and perhaps those fears and doubts would come up again in the morning, but he'd take it a day at a time and see where it got him. His last thought, other than how wonderful it was with her up against him, was how he felt a bit lighter than he had that morning.

\---

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Yuuma told her distractedly, the sound of shuffling papers in the background loud enough to hear over the phone. "Give your brother my regards."

Izumi frowned; he'd already told her that once. She knew that he valued his work, but what was so important that he couldn't spare a few minutes to talk to her? "I have a question. It's about Souji."

"Mm hm."

His reply was so distracted that it didn't even sound like an inquiry, but more like a noise given by a man who didn't care about what was being said to him. Izumi clenched her free hand into a fist but began to speak. "When he came back to Kofu, did you ever–"

"Hold on, I have a call coming in that I've been waiting for."

Before she could protest, he switched lines and left her scowling and tightening her fist in frustration. Her texts to him had gone unanswered except for the briefest of responses, and she'd left messages for him to call her back that had, apparently, not been listened to. She'd wanted to speak to him and have a nice conversation, but the longer he ignored her, the more pointed her questions became and the less time she allowed for niceties.

She was beginning to understand just how much Ryo had put up with from her. If this was what he'd experienced, then she owed her brother a bottle of sake as an apology. It was the holidays, so she'd get him an expensive brand that was normally out of his price range.

After an insultingly long time, the line reconnected again. "Are you still there?" her husband asked, still apparently distracted.

"Yes," she replied testily.

"We were talking about Chisato and Nanako. How are they–"

"We were talking about Souji," she corrected him, her tone rather short. She didn't like getting this riled up so early in the morning, but her patience was starting to run thin. "Chisato passed away years ago."

"Did she? I see. That's unfortunate."

Izumi wanted to scream at him for making it sound like Ryo's wife being killed and left in the middle of the street was of even less importance than a restaurant menu, but she restrained herself. She had a line of inquiry to pursue and she wasn't going to get distracted. "I had a question for you."

"So long as it's a short one, I have a lot of things to do."

"You can't spare some time for your wife when you haven't spoken to her since you left? So close to the holidays, even?"

There was an icy silence on the line, but after several long seconds, she heard him sigh and shift around. It sounded like he was sitting back in a couch. "Point taken. What do you want to know?"

She settled back in her seat before speaking. "I've been thinking about something since I got here. When Souji came back to Kofu, there was a night when he seemed like he was having nightmares. They were bad enough that he was crying and it seemed that he couldn't stay in his room."

"He hasn't cried since he was a child," Yuuma noted. "Not since Kanashita moved away, I think."

That much was accurate; Izumi remembered how badly the girl leaving had hit him. Even if he was over it now, he hadn't taken it well back when it happened. "He doesn't cry over much at all anymore, which is why it stood out to me. Did you ever see anything like that when he was at home? Did he talk to you about anything that was out of the ordinary?"

"No, to both questions. He was busy with school and his friends most of the time."

Izumi nodded, her eyes staring beyond the walls of Souji's room. The memory had arisen the night before, from the rain to the dark, surreal scene to the wet, weak sound her son had been making. The memory tugged at her like a hand on fresh stitches and she couldn't help the feeling that her decision at the time, to back away and leave him alone, had been the wrong one to make. "I see. I'd hoped you could shed some light on the matter."

"He's not a baby anymore, you know," Yuuma rebuked gently. "He's grown up and he can look after himself. A few bad dreams aren't going to kill him."

"He'll always be our son," Izumi pointed out with fresh determination. "Even now that he's at university, even when he gets married and has children, that's not going to change."

Her husband chuckled. "I'm glad you brought that up."

"Brought up what?"

"You're in Inaba, and Souji's girlfriend lives there, or is at least from there. Have you been able to meet her yet? What have you found out?"

Izumi hesitated, instead asking, "Why do you want to know?"

"You were worried about what kind of girl he'd want to be with. I said he wasn't with anyone foolish like that Risette," he pointed out with a touch of humour. "I'd like to know that I'm right."

Izumi knew that the question was loaded, and as much as her first instinct was to answer her husband truthfully, she held her tongue. Yukiko-san had expressed her reservations about Izumi even knowing who she was, and Souji had told her about how Yuuma had been acting behind her back. There was more going on here than met the eye. It went against her grain, but she held back a little; she'd made a promise to Souji and she wasn't going to break it. She needed more information before she could get involved in this fight. "I've met her, yes. She's very respectable."

"Then I was right," Yuuma informed her, his smile evident.

"Yes, you were. Actually she's more than I think even you would have expected." Izumi recalled the short conversation she'd had with the young woman after the dinner in Kyoto, how Yukiko-san had outright told her that she wasn't allowed to interfere with Souji's life in as polite a way as Izumi had ever heard someone deliver such a statement. It brought a smile to the woman's face; that girl was certainly a strong one. "She's an excellent match for Souji."

"Do you have any details? What's her name? What does her family do? Would we know any of her relatives?"

Yuuma meant in the corporate spheres rather than social ones. Izumi couldn't think of the last time that either of them had gone out for a night on the town, wining and dining with friends with no greater motive than pleasant company. Everything had been business related for so long that she'd had to shut thoughts of her friends out, lest she see just how much her career had consumed her life. "I'm still looking into that. I haven't had the chance to make any clear assessments yet." It wasn't really a lie; Amagi Ryoko was a very hard woman to pin down.

"Let me know when you do. I'll look into them and see where they come from."

Izumi found herself hesitating, and she knew the reason why. Whatever misgivings she had about how her meeting with the Amagis had gone, she knew they didn't deserve that degree of scrutiny. She didn't like keeping things from her husband, but she wanted to make sure that she didn't do anything that would haunt Yukiko-san in the future – Souji would never forgive her if she did. "I want to know something."

"I need to get back to work, can this wait?"

"Not really, no."

He sighed. "Then what is it?"

"Did you get involved with Souji's housing arrangements and scholarship?" she asked directly. "He says that everything he set up in advance went sideways when he got to Fujisawa. He thinks you had something to do with it."

"He said the same thing when I talked to him," Yuuma informed her calmly.

Izumi didn't like that tone of voice. She knew how he sounded when he was calm but working, calm but active, calm but distracted. His tone now sounded different from that, and she knew there was more going on than what he was saying. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you get in the way of the arrangements he made?"

"I can't help it if things turned out the way they did," he replied smoothly, the shrug evident in his voice.

That response was as clear as a smoking gun. "Why did you get involved?" she asked, not sure if she actually wanted to know. "There was no need for you to do that, and it makes you look like you're trying to control his life. I can't blame him for being angry at you."

"Souji's problem is that he's short-sighted when his blood is up," Yuuma observed with a touch of exasperation, like he was explaining something he didn't think he needed to. "Sometimes bad situations are the best thing for a person. You know that, right? Things turned out well for him in the end, and that's what matters. He secured his own housing and I understand that he has managed his financial situation while also getting a job in the area. Those are good skills for him to have for the future."

Izumi shook her head, an old feeling of sadness flickering to life in her heart. Yuuma still couldn't let it go. He presented himself as the "necessary villain" at times, citing some greater end goal that justified foul play in the present, and while it had appealed to the businesswoman in her years ago, she'd begun to see that behaviour as something that he couldn't escape. As Yuuma saw it, if Souji had given in and asked for help then he'd have learned something and been stronger for it. If Souji didn't ask for help, then he'd have to be self-sufficient and handle a crisis on his own, which also taught him something and made him stronger. It was Machiavellian by nature and Izumi found the idea of their own child being subject to those actions to be less and less forgivable. The feeling was amplified because she knew where it came from, and she knew that Yuuma probably didn't see anything wrong with what he was doing, nor did he appreciate how serious the side effects could be. "Souji's not you, you know," she told him softly. "And you're not your parents."

Yuuma's tone shifted, a crack appearing in his slick facade. "What do you mean?"

"Listen to yourself. Doesn't this sound familiar? Didn't it happen when you were going to university?"

"And I became better for it," Yuuma pointed out, apparently not understanding where she was coming from, same as how he hadn't when they'd discussed this in the past. "Why are you bringing it up?"

"Souji deserves to have a different life from either of us, you know. He should be able to do as he wishes, and if he gets into business or the corporate sphere, then it should be his choice."

"Of course he should," Yuuma concurred, not seeming to see the problem. "He has that different life right now, and he'll need to be strong if he wants to make the most of his potential. Life isn't going to be easy on him, and he'll need to be ready when things go wrong. You know that."

Izumi sighed. She wasn't going to argue the point, and just thinking of her in-laws, neither of whom were alive to see what their machinations had done to their son, was going to sour her mood.

"I have to get back to work," Yuuma told her curtly. "Keep in touch."

"You too. I love you, and make sure you look after yourself."

"I will," and the line went dead.

Izumi let out a breath, not sure what to make of the information she'd gained. She hadn't wanted to think that Yuuma would act against Souji like that, and the implications told her that she couldn't stay neutral in the matter. She also suspected that Souji had been struggling with something right after he'd come home from Inaba, especially now that she knew he'd been involved with a murder investigation, of all things. She wanted to call him and talk to him, to get some answers and find out what had happened, but she also knew that he was with Yukiko-san for the holidays and wouldn't have wanted his mother taking up his time. Nanako had spoken to him just the day before, and the girl's glowing praise of her Aunt Izumi was probably enough family talk for him for a while. But she mentally wrote a memo to herself to make the time to talk to him when the time permitted. Whatever happened to him, he was her son and she wasn't going to let him suffer if she could help.

Izumi got up and cleared a space in the room, steadying her breathing and falling into her familiar tai chi movements to centre herself and get the blood flowing. She was halfway through her katas when a knock sounded on the door. "Come in," Izumi replied as she moved slowly from one stance to the next.

"Hi, Auntie!" Nanako chirped when she cracked the door open. "Good morning."

"Good morning Nanako," Izumi replied, smiling but not interrupting her movements.

The girl stood by the door, politely waiting for Izumi to finish up. The very image of decorum, the girl didn't fidget or even look bored by the time Izumi was done. Instead, the girl looked interested and impressed. "Is that martial arts?"

"It's tai chi," Izumi informed her, working her words in with her even breathing. "A form of martial arts, I suppose. It helps me focus."

"It's different from what Chie-san does," Nanako noted. "I think she practices kung fu."

"Those two are quite different, yes."

"Can you teach me how to do it?" the girl asked, looking up with trusting eyes.

"You want to learn?"

"It looked fun, and you were really cool," she giggled. "You looked like a karate teacher in those old action movies, the ones where the good guy learns the ultimate technique and beats up the bad guy!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Izumi chuckled, "and tai chi's not the sort of thing that you would see in movies. But if you want to learn, I can show you the basics."

Nanako nodded enthusiastically and walked over to her. "What should I do first?"

Izumi walked her through the beginnings of a breathing exercise and showed her how to stand, explaining what they would be doing and how the slow, controlled movements would be different from normal fighting katas. The girl listened avidly and practiced the stances several times before she moved onto the next step. She teetered a little when Izumi showed her how to move, not balancing quite right, and when she tried to shift and pivot, she tilted over too much, flailing as she fell and giggling when Izumi caught her.

"That was fun!" the girl told her aunt once she was steady on her feet, already moving like she wanted to try it again.

"It's not something you should try on your own," Izumi cautioned. "If you want to continue learning it, then you should ask your father to find you a dojo or a teacher."

"If I learn it, then you and I could do what you were doing before!"

"We certainly can, Nanako. Is it time for breakfast?"

"Yep! I was going to ask you what you wanted."

"I'll defer to you. You've done a wonderful job so far."

Nanako blushed and giggled, leading her aunt downstairs where they put together a colourful breakfast of eggs, toast and vegetables. The conversation at the table was mostly dominated by Nanako asking questions about tai chi, and the more Izumi clarified on why she did it, the brighter the girl's eyes became.

They were cleaning up the dishes when Nanako looked up at her. "Dad said we could go to the shrine tonight. They have all sorts of neat things there, and they're putting a big celebration on closer to New Year's, too. Naoto-san and Teddie said they'd be there."

Izumi had heard of this Teddie, and as odd as the name was, she was looking forward to meeting another of Souji's friends. "That sounds wonderful, Nanako. Is there anything in particular you want to see or do there?"

"The snack stands always have really good food, and Okama-san makes the best hot chocolate. Everyone loves it so much that she runs out sometimes."

"We'll be sure to get there early then." Izumi hesitated before she asked her next question, not sure how the girl would react or even if she would understand what was being asked. "Nanako, do you know if Souji had any nightmares when he was here? Did he have a hard time sleeping?"

"Sleeping?" Nanako looked up thoughtfully, quiet for a moment before she replied. "He'd stay up late when it rained and got foggy, and him and everyone would study when they had to do their exams. Was that what you meant?"

"In a way, I suppose. I was more wondering if you've ever seen him get up late at night because of a nightmare, or if he was sad or depressed about something." Izumi didn't want to make the connection to the murders, wondering if Nanako would talk about those herself.

The girl thought some more before shaking her head. "I don't think so. He was quiet when he first moved here, probably because he didn't know anyone. But then Chie-san came over and I met Yosuke-san and Big Sis, and everything was a lot of fun after that. He always enjoyed it when they came over or when we went to Chie-san's house and played with her dog, and he got really happy when he was around Big Sis, too. She was the same way. I think she was sad about something before he came here, maybe because of school, but then she got happy and had fun with Big Bro. I don't know if he had nightmares though; my bedtime's before theirs."

Izumi covered her lips with a hand, smiling at the girl's assumptions that her friends still had bedtimes, and the way that Nanako talked about Souji and Yukiko-san and how they interacted was charming beyond words. Just the girl's description gave the impression that Souji and his fiancée were meant to be together and that them getting so far while they were still so young was as natural as the stars coming out at night. "I see. Thank you, Nanako."

"I'm sorry if that doesn't answer your question."

"That's fine. You've told me plenty."

The rest of the day was spent shopping for gifts and preparing to go to the shrine. Nanako was positively buzzing with excitement by the time they were bundling up to head out, so much so that Izumi had to gently remind her that Ryo had already agreed that he'd be there to meet them. "He won't break his promise to you, Nanako," Izumi told her as they left the house and began the walk. "Not at this time of year."

"Oh I know," Nanako assured her. "Dad doesn't do that anymore. He's gotten a lot better ever since we became a family with Big Bro."

Izumi was about to point out that they'd always been a family given their ties by blood, but she held her words when she thought of how that hadn't necessarily been true. It didn't surprise her that Souji had made a change in Nanako and Ryo's life given how they held him in such high esteem – in fact, everyone in Inaba seemed to have that same opinion of him. If anything, the comment made her smile as she saw yet another sign of the young man he'd become in her absence.

"But Teddie and Naoto-san will be there, and they really want to see you, Auntie!" Nanako continued, practically gushing and flowing over.

"Teddie doesn't know me though," Izumi pointed out as they made their way to the bus stop. "That's a bit of a tall order, isn't it?"

"I told him that you're my Auntie and Big bro's mom, and he wanted to meet you right away," Nanako giggled. "And Naoto-san and Kanji-san liked it when you visited them, too. We might see Big Sis's family there too!"

Izumi smirked uncomfortably at the thought of meeting the Amagis again. She wanted to learn more about Yukiko-san and work out how Souji had fit into the young woman's life, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to run the gauntlet again so soon after her first meeting with the pair had turned out the way it did.

Before long they were at the shrine, and Nanako ran up the stairs ahead of Izumi when she saw Naoto-san and Kanji-san there. Izumi followed and saw a brightly dressed blond young man who lit up like a city power grid when he saw her, racing over to her against Naoto-san's immediate warnings and objections.

"You must be Sensei's mother!" Teddie-san greeted her enthusiastically. "Nao-chan and Nana-chan talked about you. It's beary good to meet you!"

Izumi blinked before bowing a bit uncertainly. How had Souji met this foreigner named Teddie-san? Was it a bad choice of words that Teddie-san mixed "bear" into his wording like that, or did he not understand Japanese very well? Maybe that was it. He acted very familiar with Nanako and Naoto-san, after all. "Of course. I'm Seta Izumi. It's an honour to meet you."

"No no, it's an honour to meet Sensei's mother!" Teddie-san gushed, bowing deeper.

"Do you mean Souji? How is he Sensei to you?"

"Teddie holds Senpai in very high regard, Izumi-san," Naoto-san commented, coming up next to them and looking sharp in a dark blue blazer and slacks that fit her quite well. "I don't know if there was a clear reason for Senpai getting that particular appellation while the rest of us didn't, but it seems to have stuck."

"I see," Izumi murmured, not actually certain that she understood. It was encouraging to see that Souji had made such an interesting group of friends, but now she was curious why Souji had warranted such respect.

"Sensei's a wonderful person," Teddie-san continued, getting even more enthusiastic. "He gave everyone a chance to find themselves when they needed it, he kept going when things got hard, and he helped me grow myself and get used to everything here on this side! He's an amazing person, ma'am, and I'm sure you're proud of him!"

Naoto hissed, tugging on Teddie-san's coat sleeve while Izumi interpreted that as Teddie having come from America or Europe and being out of place until Souji helped him out. That had to be what Teddie-san meant by "on this side," after all. It wasn't such a great faux pas to make; lots of foreigners felt that way when coming to Japan. "I understand," Izumi told him. "I'm glad that you had such a good experience with him. It's clear that you look up to him."

"No one deserves it more than Sensei! Hi Nana-chan!"

Nanako bounded over to gush at Teddie-san, and Naoto-san sighed and slipped over to Izumi's side. "They're good friends. They've been like that since they met. It's amazing how fast they got so close, actually."

"Teddie-san is certainly interesting," Izumi noted with a smile, watching the pair as they chatting happily and pointed at the different food stalls on the shrine grounds. "Where is he from? His Japanese is a bit rough, but I can't place an accent.

"We're not actually sure, and you're right about how he speaks. He's always been like that, according to Senpai and the others."

"He's a bit strange," Ryo mentioned as he came up to them, keeping a watchful eye on his daughter, "but he's pretty harmless. Souji just brought him home one day and Nanako got along with him better than anyone else I've seen before. That was that."

"Doujima-san," Naoto-san greeted the man. "I'm glad you could make it."

He nodded gruffly to the young woman in reply. "I called in a few favours. As a heads-up, your phone's probably going to ring tomorrow, so make the most of your time here."

"I understand. Thank you for that." Naoto-san nodded politely to Izumi before returning to her beau, slipping an arm around one of his and watching Teddie-san with a remarkable degree of scrutiny.

Izumi smiled before looking around at the shrine. It seemed that they had come during a busy spell. All around them were families and couples, some of whom were talking to Kanji-kun and Naoto-san, and the food stalls were especially popular. The smells of the food were making her stomach growl despite her having eaten before they came.

"Hungry?" Ryo asked.

"I think I'll wait for now," she replied. "I wanted to ask you something, if you have a minute."

"Want something to drink, Dad?" the girl asked, apparently overhearing them.

"We'll be there in a minute, Nanako," Ryo told her. "Go say hello to your friends."

The girl nodded enthusiastically, scampering over to talk to a classily-dressed blonde girl and a young man wearing two sets of earrings, apparently together if their clasped hands were any indication. "She certainly doesn't lack for friends," Izumi commented, watching her niece as she flitted from person to person and brought smiles to every one of them, Teddie-san following closely.

"She's come a long way," Ryo agreed before looking over. "What did you want to ask me?"

Izumi let out a white breath before turning to her brother. "Did Souji have any nightmares while he was staying with you?"

Ryo gave her a look like he thought she was joking. "Is that a serious question?"

"Of course it is."

"He was here for a year, and that's not including the time between when he graduated and when he left for university," he pointed out steadily, like he was explaining something simple. "If he's like any normal person, then of course he had nightmares. Everyone does."

"That's not what I meant," Izumi clarified. "I'm asking if there was anything out of the ordinary about him, maybe as a result of him being tied to the murder investigation."

"Why are you asking?"

Izumi told her brother about that night in Kofu when Souji had broken down by the window, how out of place it had been for her in-control son and how she still couldn't reconcile the image even with what she'd learned so far.

"Nightmares like that aren't uncommon for people involved in strenuous situations," Ryo told her when she finished. "Lots of cops have that problem, especially the rookies. That's why they have mandatory debriefing sessions and psych tests and they get transferred once they've run out of steam. I never saw Souji have those sorts of problems when he was here."

"Nothing came up about the investigation when you were talking, then?"

"I didn't know he was involved until a little bit before Adachi turned himself in," Ryo explained. "I found out the same night that Nanako was kidnapped, and after that she was in the hospital. A lot was going on, and he seemed to take it in stride, which is why I know he was involved a lot earlier than he'll admit. But I wasn't looking for those signs at the time, so I don't know if he had those problems in May or later. I don't think anyone besides him knows the answer to that question, even with the friends he has now."

"I'll have to ask him then," Izumi noted.

"Give him some room," Ryo warned. "It's the holidays, and he probably doesn't get to see Amagi that often anymore."

"I'll wait until the new year," Izumi promised. "He deserves some time to himself. But I do want to know if he's handling it well."

Ryo gave her a sidelong look before grunting. "Sounds like you're taking this 'mother' thing seriously," he commented bluntly.

Izumi knew he was trying to bait her, and even a few weeks ago she might have taken offense to his words. But she knew what he was saying and she wasn't going to make excuses for her past decisions. "I said I would try, and I plan to do just that."

Ryo shrugged without replying, but Izumi knew her brother better than that. She could detect some measure of respect, and maybe even pride, in him that hadn't been there before. If that was his way of showing her tacit approval, and perhaps also the unspoken jab that he'd be around to help pick up the pieces, then she could say with certainty that he hadn't changed that much, and the familiarity of it warmed her heart.

They walked toward the offering box side by side, and the sound of steps on the shrine walkway brought an old memory to mind. Izumi smirked and held her hand out slightly, stopping Ryo and reaching into her pocket.

"What is it?" he asked.

Izumi didn't say anything. She brought a 100 yen coin out and set it on the end of her thumb, looked at the offering box and flicked the piece in from six or seven feet away. The coin rang as it twirled through the air and slipped through the wooden slats without a fuss, landing amongst the rest of the coins. Nanako and Teddie-san cheered and clapped for her, but she gave an arch smile to her brother. "Your turn," she murmured, instigating the competition they'd begun when they were young and hadn't let up on until she'd moved away and had Souji.

"Are you kidding?" he asked, half a smile cracking his firm facade.

"The best luck comes from the best throws," she told him, quoting their mother who'd first started the game. The woman had told them that if they wanted the best luck for the new year, then they should try and get their coin offerings in from the furthest distance they could. In retrospect, it had probably been a ploy to get the brother and sister to behave when the family went to the shrine together, but within minutes the siblings had turned it into a contest that ate up their spare change in no time. It had gotten so intense that they'd both taken part-time jobs on the weekends and practiced with friends to outdo the other, and their record remained firmly tied across the years. "Unless you can't do it anymore," she suggested with a smile. "There's no shame in that."

Ryo stared at her before reaching into his own pocket and pointedly taking two steps back from where she was standing, casually flicking the coin into the offering box with the same ease that she had.

Izumi dug out another coin and stepped back two paces from her brother, lining up her shot and sinking it easily. Ryo stepped back even further and made his shot, and back and forth it went until they were making overhand throws and asking Naoto-san to tell them where the coins were going. The competition had gained quite a crowd, and might have continued right back to the shrine stairs if Ryo hadn't just barely sunk his coin before calling an end to the game. "We're holding up everyone else," he pointed out, gesturing to the people around them, "and I don't have any more spare change."

Teddie-san immediately rushed forward with two handfuls of coins. "Here you go, sir! I don't mind! Until the war is won, the battle's bearly begun!" he announced fervently, Nanako echoing him with a pump of her small fist.

"They seem to want us to keep going. Are you conceding?" Izumi asked.

"Come back next year and we'll go all day," he promised. "Assuming that you last that long, of course."

Izumi smirked. It was the same trash-talk as usual, but it was also a good sentiment to end their game on. She had a reason to come back next year – probably before then if he'd allow it – and she wouldn't let it go to waste. "You're on."

He nodded, a tight grin on his face as he went to collect his daughter and allow the other shrine visitors to go about their business. There was some disappointment amongst the crowd, but the energy among the people had increased, and there were even some younger couples who began lining up their own throws to the offering box, apparently set on emulating a good idea. The shrine fox was slinking around the shrine grounds, she noticed, watching her with what she thought was approval. It was a ridiculous thought, really, since animals, even smart ones, wouldn't have cared about people throwing their money around. That didn't stop the strange canine from looking at her and glancing at the offering box, however. Izumi stood to the side and watched the people of Inaba, feeling the slower pace of life gently flow around her, and this time she didn't mind it as much. It wasn't the breakneck pace of Tokyo, but that wasn't such a bad thing. There was a shuffling next to her the she didn't respond to, assuming it was someone passing her by.

"Yukiko has good memories of this place," Amagi Ryoko told her quietly. "She said that Souji asked to go out with her here, and Kasai says that whenever Yukiko needed a place to clear her head, this was where she came. I doubt the connection is a coincidence."

Izumi didn't turn to the woman, instead thinking about that photo that Ryo had sent her. Before Izumi had left, she'd framed the picture and set it up in her office in front of her degrees and certifications. Just thinking about the image made her smile – Souji looking happy and at peace, like he belonged with the beautiful girl in red, set against the shrine's pillars and the enormous sacred tree. It was probably a special place for him as well, here in a town that he seemed to connect with more than any other place he'd lived before. "It's easy to imagine her here," Izumi replied. "Same as Nanako. I can't imagine her being in Tokyo. Inaba suits her."

"Might I ask what you wished for?" Ryoko-san inquired quietly. "With all the good luck you just accrued, you must have some wishes that you want to come true."

Izumi glanced over at the woman, seeing the expectant look on her face. This was another test, but Izumi knew on some level that there wasn't any criteria for a pass or fail. The woman wanted to see how she responded, and Izumi decided to say what was in her heart and damn what someone else thought. "I want them to be happy," she replied simply. "Souji and Yukiko-san. They have a lot to go through from this point forward, even if everything goes well. I hope they get through the worst of it stronger and happier, and that things get better from here on out."

"Do you feel that they'll still be together at that time?"

Izumi smiled. For a test question, that one had a very easy answer. "I think that's a given, don't you? They won't let anything get in the way of what they have right now."

"Those are some fine wishes, but what about yourself? Don't you want some good luck for your own endeavours?"

Everyone asked that question, or some form of it, when they saw the coin-tossing competition of the Doujima siblings. They saw how she and Ryo competed and assumed that they both wanted the best luck and the best outcomes because of how much money they threw into the shrine box. It was never about that, however. Good luck was something you made on your own, not something you asked for, and as Izumi looked over to where Nanako was drinking hot chocolate with her father, surrounded by friends and family and all the connections she'd made, only one word came to mind. "No. I don't need it. There are things I want to do, so badly that I can't wait for the new year to get here, but I'm not going to rely on luck and gods to get me there. Whether I succeed or fail is up to me, and nothing else."

Ryoko-san hummed pensively. "Strong words, if you don't mind me saying so."

"They're the only ones to live by, I've found."

Silence settled between them for several moments, long enough that Izumi glanced over to see if the woman had left or gotten distracted by something else. But Ryoko-san wore an expression that felt welcoming and readable, and her voice held a clear undercurrent of warmth this time where she'd been as smooth as a mirror before. "I'd like to meet with you again. For lunch or tea or whatever you like, and it doesn't have to be at the Inn. Just us, if you have the time before you go. There's no need for the men to get involved."

Izumi chuckled, reading between the lines. Amagi Ryoko was a formidable woman, even more than Yukiko-san had shown herself to be, and Izumi got the impression that the respect of both women was not easily earned. While the first meeting with each Amagi had not been without its trials, Izumi knew that she'd passed on some level. It wouldn't have bothered her much if she hadn't – she could always get closer to Souji and let the Amagi women do as they pleased and maintain a polite distance from them if need be – but there was something about Ryoko-san's words that made Izumi feel like she was making the right choice. Having her eyes opened had taken running into a wall and seeing the worst that Junko had sunk to, and there were still many problems to be dealt with. She couldn't even say that she and Souji were starting to get along better when the best they could do was sit in a room and not argue, and she had years of catching up to do with Ryo and Nanako. None of this was even accounting for what her job would look like when she got back home. But in saying those words and earning the canny woman's acceptance, something in her heart told her that this was where she was supposed to be.

"I'd like that," Izumi replied easily, giving the woman a knowing glance. "What day works for you? The sooner the better, no?"

There was a current of good humour in the woman's voice when she spoke. "I agree, Izumi-san. The sooner the better."


End file.
